


When in Doubt

by oshjoshmgosh



Series: A Different Kind of Alpha [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends, Canon-Typical Violence, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Human Alpha Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23090479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oshjoshmgosh/pseuds/oshjoshmgosh
Summary: Stiles brain stalled when the door opened to two equally gorgeous pairs of eyes. He couldn't tell which was prettier: the angry green-grey eyes scowling at him on the guy, or the chocolate pair on the smiling face of one goddess Laura Hale.No, he had to focus. His life depended on his ability to work through mush-brain."Please tell me you're werewolves. If not then my best friend is going to rip my throat out with his teeth."
Relationships: Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Different Kind of Alpha [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659592
Comments: 52
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first in a long series I've got in the works. the first volume is complete, I'll be updating this very quickly as I finish proofreading each chapter a final time.  
> It's got a LOT of stiles-scott bro time. honestly it's most of the fic. I love sciles, but I wanted to focus more on their bromance than any actual relationship stuff.  
> I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

If anyone asked Stiles if he remembered the exact day everything in his life flipped around and kicked him in the teeth, pissed all over everything he had thought and believed about life and the universe up until that day, he would respond with a scowl.

Because he did.

He remembered the exact minute.

It was January 14th, 2011. He had looked down at the computer in front of him to glare at the time, hating the fact it was only 4:11pm, because it meant he still had six hours until he was allowed to go home. It was a Friday! He should be out partying and getting into mayhem with his best friend-recently-turned-werewolf Scott McCall!

Instead, he was sitting behind the police station reception desk, filling in for Sandy because indentured servitude was only illegal if the servant wasn't indentured to their parent. And anyway, who would tell the Sheriff he was not allowed to make his son answer phones to keep him out of trouble? The police?

Right. Like they did not dote on the Sheriff's word, or agree with him completely.

Because Stiles was their most frequent escort. None of the officers even bothered to bring him down to the station when they caught him and Scott snooping somewhere they did not belong. They just dropped them off at home with warnings not to cause any real problems.

Maybe Stiles took advantage of the fact that all of the officers basically considered him family.

Being locked in a cell for a few hours of time-out when he pushed their buttons afforded him some license to act like a little shit.

So naturally, he was glancing over files he was not supposed to have access to – and if his father knew he would scold him for breaking into the station's system – when the prettiest woman he had ever seen in his entire long sixteen years of life strode through the doors.

Black hair cascaded in waves down her back, flowing around her shoulders like a waterfall. Her dark brown eyes glinted in the light and she smiled at him when he leaped to his feet. His phone clattered to the ground, forgotten in his distraction with the beauty before him. She wore a short leather jacket that cut off just above her ribs and hugged everything that Stiles cared about. His mouth went dry and he forced his eyes to track her face. He swallowed at the amusement he could easily read in her beautiful eyes.

“Ca-” he coughed, his throat dry. Swallowing and clearing his throat, he tried again.

“Can I help you, ma'am?” She gave him a smile that made him swallow again. She stopped at the counter and turned sideways to lean against it to hide the perfect figure, that he was absolutely not looking at, from view. He silently thanked and cursed her as her leather jacket, hanging open, turned everything below her neck into a shapeless wall of leather.

“Aren't you a little young to be working at the police station?” He cleared his throat again and nodded.

“I'm old enough to have a job!” He wasn't _that_ young! “But I'm just being a dutiful son and helping out. Hoping the old man takes it easy on me and forgets about my curfew next time I happen to be out late because I forgot I had a curfew and a father who cares and lost track of time hanging out with my best friend absolutely doing nothing illegal, and I'm gonna stop talking so I can help you. How can I help?” Her lips pursed together in clear effort not to laugh at him. He scratched the back of his head, fighting down the blush he knew would be rising up his neck.

“I should have made an appointment, but I just rolled back into town.” She said after a moment. “My name's Laura Hale. I was hoping to meet with the Sheriff, go over the things I need to do to settle back in.”

Hale. He knew that name. Why did he know that name? Strings connected in his brain, dragging from the depths of his memory the image of a burned-out house he had seen during one of his late-night research binges.

The Hale family, owners of the creepy old house he and Scott had scoped out just a few weeks prior. Except for two of the older siblings, Laura and Derek, the entire family had perished. Electrical fire, reportedly.

So maybe he had looked at the files in his dad's system after discovering it, curiosity itching at him.

The Hales had been pillars of the Beacon Hills community when he was little. Digging into the fire had led him to the newspaper article, which outlined everything Talia Hale and her husband Robert had been involved with. Talia had been the District Attorney and had provided legal council for nearly every business and venture in town. Robert had been the Chairman of the school board, a volunteer fireman, an EMT, and ran the homeless shelter downtown.

There had been no public information about their children, but Stiles knew they had several.

Stiles realized he had spent several seconds staring off into space – in Laura's direction – when she cleared her throat, another amused grin barely suppressed by pursed lips. He shook himself and nodded vigorously.

“The sheriff! Of course, of course.” He lifted the phone off its receiver and pressed the button to connect to his dad's office. “Hey da-Sheriff,” he greeted, hastily correcting himself to seem more professional. “There's a Laura Hale here, she wants to talk to you about...reintegration and stuff.” She gave him a bright smile that made his heart skip a couple beats. He missed the beginning of his father's reply.

“-d her back.”

“Sure thing...sir.” He hung up before his father inevitably commented on his inability to avoid calling him 'dad' on publicly recorded lines.

Just because nobody cared he was technically there illegally did not mean no one ever would.

“He'd be happy to meet with you!” He crowed, perhaps a little to brightly. He winced and dropped his voice to a more reasonable tone. “If you just walk down the hall, his is the third door on the right.”

“Thank you!” Laura gave him yet another breathtaking smile, and he thought he might die then and there. Her grin remained as she let her jacket fall where it was supposed to, hugging her perfect form once again. Stiles dropped to the ground to find his phone in order to keep himself from staring as she danced by him.

Scott was never going to believe this.

***

“Why do you smell like...” Stiles flailed and fell out of his chair when his best friend slipped through his suddenly-open window.

“Dammit, Scott! I told you to knock first!” He picked himself up off the ground and rerighted his chair before glaring at his friend. “And what do you mean, I smell?”

He held himself still as Scott gently grabbed his shoulders and rubbed his nose lightly around Stiles' torso, snuffling lightly as he tried to categorize the various scents wafting around him. Ever since that night in the woods three weeks earlier, Scott had been obsessive about scents.

His best friend never demanded anything of Stiles, but Scott had cringed the first time Stiles showed up at his house after they knew what had happened to him. “Sorry, sensitive nose.” He had begged off, clapping Stiles' shoulder in an apology for flinching away. Stiles had tried switching to unscented everything, and it had worked. Scott never flinched away from his scent. In fact, when school had started back up that Monday, Scott spent so much time burying his face in Stiles' neck or shoulder or hair to escape the violent scents teenagers carried around them, everyone thought they had actually started dating.

They grudgingly stopped correcting people, because it was easier than finding a feasible excuse for Scott's behavior.

“You smell like...well, normal, but there's another scent on you. It sticks out, and I don't recognize it. It...makes me nervous. I can feel my fangs itching when I think about it.” Stiles broke his stillness and looked up into the eyes that were so close it hurt to focus on them. They were glowing yellow.

“Hey, buddy. I'm gonna go shower. I don't want you freaking out.” Scott closed his eyes and shook his head, fingers clenching almost painfully on his shoulders before they withdrew.

“No...It's okay. I'm fine. I can handle it.” Stiles smiled and pushed Scott toward his bed. 

“I'll be five minutes. Just...roll around in my bed, or something. I haven't touched it today, so it should be free of whatever's got your panties in a twist.” Stiles stripped out of his clothes and threw them into the hamper without waiting for a response, smiling in satisfaction when Scott buried his face in his pillow.

Stiles had learned a lot of ways to help his best friend control his new instincts over the previous weeks. Scott had struggled with anger, and his senses, and a new level of possessiveness Stiles would have thought impossible for his friend. Of course, Scott had always been a little puppy, so he supposed it was only fitting he graduate into an actual dog eventually.

Chuckling to himself, Stiles stepped out of the shower, having scrubbed clean quickly, yet thoroughly. Stepping out of the bathroom he rolled his eyes at Scott rubbing a sweatshirt all over his arms and face. A pair of rumpled pants on the foot of his bed had likely undergone the same treatment only moments before, and he assumed they were meant for him.

Possessive scent marking: check.

He took the sweatshirt Scott bashfully handed him and put it on. Even he could smell Scott all over it, so he figured it would be good enough for his friend. Scott wrapped him up in a hug as soon as the clothes were on, nose buried in his neck and inhaling his now-clean scent desperately. Stiles once again held still and endured the sniffing.

“Not that I don't love you, buddy, but I kinda hope you get over this desperation eventually. It'll be really awkward if we're thirty and you have to follow me around at work, sniffing me just to get through the day.” Scott chuckled and pushed him away, moving to sit back on his bed.

“Sorry. You just...I couldn't smell me on you, and the other scent was like...a claim of ownership. It felt wrong.” Stiles cocked his head, curious. The only person he had seen that day that was outside his usual Friday encounters would have been Laura.

Could she be the source of the scent? He knew she had been all over the station, so it would make sense that he absorbed a little bit of her scent. Especially because he had leaned on the same spot on the counter that she had while saying goodbye to the other officers.

Maybe he should keep his interactions with Laura to himself for now. If Scott thought she was a werewolf, he would try to meet her without thinking about potential repercussions.

What if she was a werewolf? He doubted all werewolves were nice. Even Scott had almost killed him on accident when he lost control. That was when they realized they needed to work on his emotional control.

What if she was the wolf that bit him? Someone who would bite a random teenager in the woods was almost-certainly not anyone they should be friends with.

What if she was territorial and tried to kill him for approaching her?

No, it was better that Scott not know about her. At least until Stiles could evaluate the threat level. Heaven knew his friend would never consider anyone a threat until after they stabbed him.

Stiles jumped onto his bed and settled next to his best friend, unsurprised when muscular arms wrapped around his chest and a nose glued itself to his collar bone. He lifted his arm and dropped it around Scott's shoulders, grabbing his phone and settling in.

“I'm sorry.” Stiles shrugged.

“Don't worry about it, buddy. Incessant cuddling is way better than mauling. And if smelling like you keeps me safe during your next moment of weakness, I'll collect your sweat and make a cologne out of it and wear it every day.”

“That's disgusting.”

“Don't pretend it doesn't soothe the savage beast within you.”

“Still disgusting. I don't want you to smell like my sweat. I just...” Stiles squeezed his arm.

“You just want me to smell like yours, so you always have something to hold onto.” Scott shot up, staring at him with wide eyes. He chuckled and patted his friend's back, pushing him back down. “Don't worry, I get it. You forget that I'm smarter than you. I'll probably figure out all your new instincts long before you do.”

“'S not fair.” Scott grumbled, rubbing his face on Stiles' chest.

“Think the full moon is gonna be a problem?” He had been worrying about the approaching Wednesday since the day he figured out what Scott was. While a lot of the material he had been through to figure his friend out was crap, literally everything said werewolves were beholden to the full moon. There was not a single source on the entirety of the internet that did not agree that the full moon would turn his friend into a blood-thirsty monster.

Scott remained silent for too long for comfort. Finally, he nodded. It felt reluctant, a slow drag against his chest.

“I do. I can feel...everything getting stronger, more intense, the closer the moon gets.” Stiles exhaled slowly. He would need to think of something. There was no way Scott would be able to handle hurting someone. As though reading his mind, Scott rolled slightly and lifted Stiles' free arm, just looking at the bandage.

The wound was a week old now, but he kept bandages on it just to keep his clothes and random objects from agitating it. They had been working on Scott's anger, training him to keep calm in the face of irritants.

The irritants being Stiles throwing names and racial slurs at him while kicking and punching him.

They had needed some serious TLC after they got home from the hospital. Scott had lost it for just a second, swiping out with a claw and slashing three neat lines deep into Stiles' arm.

“Don't think about it. You'll be fine.” Scott sighed, tucking Stiles' arm against his chest carefully, avoiding hurting the healing wound.

“What if I'm not? I can't hurt you again, Stiles. What if it's worse next time?”

“I'll think of something.” He promised, lifting the arm around Scott's shoulders to card gentle fingers through his friend's hair.

No one would ever believe they were not dating if they walked in on them.

“I've got a plan. I'm not gonna tell you yet, in case it doesn't pan out.” Scott opened his mouth to ask, but closed it when Stiles added the second part. They remained silent for a moment, but Scott nodded. He pulled away just long enough to turn off the light, making his way back to Stiles' bed with glowing eyes.

“You know, you're probably destroying my fight-or-flight reflexes. Now if I see glowing eyes approaching me in the dark, there's an even chance I'll welcome them with a hug instead of running.” Scott chuckled and buried himself in Stiles' chest again.

“Ask my middle name if you don't know for a fact that it's me.” Stiles nodded.

“That's a good idea. And if it's not you, then I'll just scream and hope you find me before they decide to eat my insides.” Scott's arms tightened around him.

“I'll never let another wolf get that close to you.”

“Hah, my hero. Shut up and sleep, Scotty. You have work in the morning.”

“What're you gonna do?”

“Probably help my dad, clean up the house a bit. Enact the first part of my Full Moon Plan.” Scott remained silent for a moment, just breathing against him.

“Be careful.” Stiles squeezed his arm again.

“I will.”

***

“What?” Stiles blinked at the face that opened the door of the motel room. Black hair, intense greenish-blue eyes, face sculpted by the gods. A leather jacket – full length and not form-hugging, but still intimidating – covered a black v-neck that did nothing to hide the layers of muscle beneath his skin. The man before him was definitely related to Laura Hale. Although he lacked her charm, so maybe not. Was charm a genetic trait? Should all siblings be equally charming and approachable?

Probably not.

He had prepared himself for Laura's stunning beauty and friendly smile, so the grumpy beau glaring at him only made his stomach flip, rather than shutting down his whole brain.

“I'm looking for Laura.” He announced cheerfully, holding up a plate of cookies. “We met yesterday and I wanted to welcome you guys back!” Derek inhaled through his nose, and Stiles watched as his eyes widened briefly before he shut his expression back down into an annoyed glare.

Had he smelled Scott? Was he a werewolf too? Is that what he just saw?

“Derek, who's there?”

Derek. Derek Hale. Good to know. He would definitely be plugging that into Facebook when he returned home.

“Stiles.” He provided helpfully. “Sheriff's kid.” Derek glared before turning slightly back into the room, eyes never leaving him, to relay the information.

“Oh! Let him in!”

“Laura...”

“Be polite, Derek.” Stiles grinned at the man, who glared back before stepping back from the door to allow him entrance. Stiles stepped through and inhaled, trying to see if he could smell anything that could identify them as being like Scott.

Considering he could recognize nothing wolfy about Scott's scent, it was definitely an exercise in futility. 

Laura was just as beautiful as she had seemed the day before, even though she lacked the leather jacket and her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. A light purple sweater covered her modestly, but she still wore it like a model.

“You guys should go on America's Next Top Model.” He winced to himself, but he had committed. He had to continue. Not that he could have stopped himself. “You would wreck the competition. And the judges. And everyone at home watching. There wouldn't even be a competition. They'd just see you guys and declare the season over, sign your contract to every agency in the world.”

“Hi, Stiles.” Laura interrupted, reaching out for the cookies. Thank goodness.

“Hi. Welcome back to town, yada yada.” He waved his hands at the cookies. “Snickerdoodles, because they're pretty much impossible to be allergic to. Unless you're gluten-free, in which case I apologize and I'll take those back before you die from proximity.” Laura laughed and his stomach dropped out. It was like a chorus of angels ringing bells in his ears.

“Thank you, Stiles. We're not allergic to anything, so your snickerdoodles are very much appreciated!” He gave her a smile that he hoped did not look constipated.

And that was as far as he had planned for the first part of Operation Full Moon. Crap.

“How did you know we were here?” Stiles swallowed at the imposing figure Derek made as he subtly blocked his exit. Laura sighed from behind him, but she did not give any indication he should not answer. He shrugged.

“I'm the Sheriff's kid. What he knows, I know, no matter how hard he tries to keep it from me.” Laura laughed brightly, and Derek's scowl deepened, and Stiles cursed the way his body reacted to both of them. Anger and disdain should never look as attractive as Derek's face made it seem. “Sorry for invading your privacy, or whatever. Just trying to be friendly. I-” he cut himself off, having enough presence of mind to know he should not say anything about the fire, or their dead family. “What brings you guys back to town?” That was good. That was a friendly question right? Derek's glare said otherwise, but Laura answered.

“Our uncle is still here in a long-term care facility. We had to get away for a while, but we always planned to return to help care for him.” Uncle? Probably Peter Hale. He too had survived the fire, for some measure of the word 'survived.' He was comatose in a long-term facility, and had not twitched a muscle in six years. He nodded, smiling back at Laura.

“That's awesome! I mean...not that he's in a care facility, awesome that you guys came back to care for him. It's nice. Good. Good that he has family to help him. Everyone needs someone, ya know? I've only got my dad and best friend and his mom, but I'd do anything for them.”

“Who's your friend?” Crap. Crap. Laura's face was open and friendly, but Derek's eyes had narrowed slightly. Okay. So definitely werewolves. They had definitely smelled Scott, there was no other reason for them to be curious about his friend. No amount of friendly conversation could account for that.

They could not find out about Scott. Not until he had established that they would be more help than danger.

“Name's Danny. His family moved here after you guys left, so you wouldn't remember them. We're tight though. Have been since we were kids.” As long as they did not try prying, he should be fine. Scott would be fine. He would keep Scott safe from these big bad wolves. Because they were definitely werewolves.

God, he hoped they were friendly werewolves.

“Well that's awesome! Like you said, everyone should have someone.” Laura gave him a bright smile that sucked the moisture from his mouth. “Anyway, we were actually planning on going out for a bit.”

“Oh, yeah, of course! I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to come welcome you guys back, let you know I'm around to help out if you need anything. I've got school and lacrosse, but otherwise I'm just being a delinquent. Feel free to make me move things, or whatever. Anything is better than doing paperwork for my dad or sitting in a cell because the deputies don't want to keep track of me.” Derek made a little strangled sound that he would consider a laugh.

Score, he had made Scary Derek laugh.

Laura openly chuckled, and the bells of her voice rang through his ears and wrung all intelligent thought from his brain.

“Thanks for dropping these off, and we'll let you know if we need anything!” He shook his head quickly to clear it and stepped lightly toward Derek. The man moved out of his way, giving him access to the door. “Oh, Stiles?” He whipped around, probably a little too quickly, at Laura's call.

“Yes?”

“Could I get your number? Your dad would probably appreciate if I don't bother him at work, when I'm sure you can help us just as easily.”

“Yes. Yes! Yeah of course!” Stiles frantically dug through his pockets, throwing his phone on the floor in his haste to get it free. He thanked his dad for the LifeProof case once again. “Sure, here, just plug your number in and I'll text you!” She took his phone with a smile and entered her contact info, handing it back with a grin.

“Thank you! We'll see you around, Stiles!”

“Yep, yes, yes! Any time!” He slipped out of the room and Derek closed the door behind him. He exhaled heavily, leaning against the opposite wall for support before texting Laura.

_Hey, it's Stiles!_

He began walking and jumped into the air in surprise when his phone vibrated in his hand.

_Hey Stiles! Thanks again for  
the cookies! Derek loves them!   
He's already eaten four!_

A smile broke his face as he read the text, numbly descending the stairs back to his jeep. He wondered if Mr. Grumpywolf actually liked the cookies, or if Laura was just being nice. She was so nice. She was the nicest person he had met, after Scott.

Shoot, Scott. Scott would undoubtedly be coming over after work. He would smell Laura and Derek all over him. He would recognize the scent from yesterday, because Stiles was almost positive Laura was its source. They were werewolves, and his werewolf best friend would absolutely smell them all over him and demand to know what Phase One had been.

Phase Two would hopefully tell him if the Hales were safe to trust with his best friend's life.

Before that, however...

He needed a shower.

***

When Tuesday brought Scott burying his face in Stiles' shoulder in the locker room, claws piercing his shirt and clutching at him for dear life, Stiles knew he needed help.

Phase Two had been a failure.

Laura had never requested his help for anything, so he had no excuse to hang out with them. No hang out, no observation, no establishment of trust.

“Scotty, Scotty, Scotty, heyyy Scotty, my man. You're okay, okay? Just breathe. Breathe in all the Eau de Stilinski you need my bro, because going anywhere with your face like it is is a terrible idea.” He wrapped his arms around Scott's waist, holding him to his chest while the claws brushed against his shoulder blades and fangs scraped against his collar bones.

Jackson had been the limit of Scott's control.

Verbal insults, his friend had been able to handle. A few rough shoulder checks through the day had been okay, although Stiles had seen glowing eyes peering out from beneath Scott's bangs as he collected himself.

Then the douche had practically tackled Scott in PE, shoving him out of the way to catch the kickball, and Stiles knew all hell was about to break loose. He had leaped up as soon as Scott hit the ground, and his friend had been breathing heavy through fangs, hands clenched and eyes squeezed shut.

Begging it off as an asthma attack, he dragged Scott – blessedly with his friend's cooperation – into the locker room.

“You're fine, buddy. Just focus on me, focus on breathing. Get your heart rate back down. You'll be okay.”

“I can't...I can't do this, Stiles!” Claws flexed against his back, and he restrained the impulse to shiver. He just pressed his nose into Scott's neck, rubbing it back and forth in an attempt to distract his friend.

“Hey, you trust me, right?”

“You're not Superman, Stiles! What if I hurt you?”

“I'll get you help. I...know some people. People who can help me help you get through tomorrow.” Scott pulled away, confusion written across his furry face.

“What?”

“Just trust me. It's going to be fine. You'll be fine. You'll survive tomorrow, and then you'll be fine Thursday, and Friday you can take Allison on that date you promised her, even though it's a terrible idea because you don't know how to bowl.” Scott took in a deep breath and when he let it out, his eyes were back to their typical chocolatey color.

“There ya go. Just breathe, man.” Scott stepped back into the circle of his arms, and Stiles could feel blunt, human fingers against his back. “Okay. Get changed, you're going home. Here,” he quickly whipped off his shirt and handed it to Scott. “Wear this home. Surround yourself in my calming musk tonight.” Scott frowned, but nodded and pulled his own shirt off in order to slip Stiles' on. His shoulders relaxed further as the overwhelming scent of Stiles wafted around him.

“Unless my friends tell me it's a bad idea, I'm going to give you another shirt tomorrow to wear all day. I plan on sleeping in it, so it'll be pretty ripe with Stiles-scent.” Scott grimaced, but nodded.

“Okay. I can handle this.”

“Yes, you can. Now. Go home and relax. Do the meditation exercises I gave you, all of them.”

“Yes, mom.”

“Don't call me that, gross. We've gotten too close for that to be anything but vaguely incestuous.” Scott barked out a laugh and stepped away, leading them back to their lockers to grab their things, and the two parted ways with a long hug. Stiles had spent a lot of time the previous weeks doling out copious amounts of comfort to his best friend.

Hopefully the full moon would pass and it would be less necessary.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Stiles started his jeep – after only two tries this time! - and made his way to the Hales' motel. He shot Laura a text and received confirmation that they were there. Nerves curdled in his stomach, and he wished they were the regular nerves he would get around the Hales. Those were butterflies of delight from dealing with pretty people; these were scorpions of fear and trepidation crawling through his gut.

He pulled into the parking lot far sooner than he was mentally prepared for.

Unwilling to think about it and psych himself out, Stiles threw open the door and practically sprinted up to the Hales' room. He inhaled once, twice, then knocked softly.

Long, dark hair and kind eyes above a bright smile greeted him, and the urge to bow down and worship the goddess before him flooded his body. He inhaled and steeled himself, returning her gaze despite every instinct telling him to look away, to submit. He kept his voice a whisper, barely able to hear it himself.

“Please tell me you're a werewolf. If you're not, then I very well actually may die.”

Laura's eyes widened and he took it as a confirmation. No human would have been able to hear his words. He nodded to himself and strode past her, certain he was able to only because she was too stunned to stop him. He nearly crashed into the imposing wall of chest that was Derek Hale, stopping just short and staring nervously into the glaring eyes.

“What?” Laura's voice was soft, fearful and threatening from where she stood in the open doorway. Strong hands grabbed his shirt, lifting him off his feet and slamming him into the wall. He made no attempt to struggle. This was a test. He was testing them, and if they failed, he would probably die. But they would never learn about Scott, so he would be okay, provided he found a way to control himself. And Stiles was certain he stood at least a 50% chance of death under the full moon tomorrow if he did not get the Hales' help.

“How do you know?” Laura's voice was calm, but there was strain under it as she closed the door with a soft click, cutting off his only escape. He ignored Derek – which was impressive, considering the man held him suspended against a wall – in favor of holding her eyes. His instincts still told him to look away, but he knew that had to be because she was the alpha here. She was in charge, and his gut knew it and wanted him to submit.

But Scott needed him.

“My best friend's a new werewolf. I'm smart, so I figured it out. I met you and he freaked out over the new scent. I figured it was you because you coming to the station was the only thing that was even remotely different from any other Friday, then I was testing you guys when I brought you cookies. I needed to know if I could trust you, because...Danny's life depends on me being right.” He almost slipped and gave them Scott's name. He was nothing if not an accomplished liar. He convinced himself of that every time he had to lie. That had to mean he was good at it, right?

“You just figured it out?” Derek growled, but he made no acknowledgment other than a nod. He kept his gaze trained on Laura, who regarded him thoughtfully.

“Derek, set him down.”

“He could be a hunter!”

“Aw shit, there are hunters too? Of course there are. It's not bad enough I have to survive a full moon, I have to do it while keeping him away from hunters too!” He flailed his arms in exasperation, knocking them against the wall and Derek's arms. His slowly slid down the wall as Derek listened to his sister.

To his alpha.

Her eyes were glowing red.

He swallowed, but held her shining, terrifying gaze. Her eyebrows lifted when he refused to look away and a small smile quirked on her lips.

“You, Stiles Stilinski, are something else.”

“I'll take that as a compliment. Can you please help me?”

“What do you want us to do? Detain him?” He shook his head.

“Tell me how to do it. I don't want him near you until I know I can trust you. Someone did this to him, and you're the only werewolves around.”

“We didn't-”

“I didn't say I blamed you.” He cut Derek off, still holding Laura's gaze. This was the most intense game of 'don't blink' he had ever played. “I don't blame you. Yet. But I don't have anyone else to blame, so until I know I can trust you, I'll protect him myself.”

“It's not him who needs protecting.”

“Derek.” Laura's voice was soft, but commanding. Her brother fell silent at once. “How have you been...helping him so far? How long ago was he bitten?”

“A few weeks. This is his first full moon, and he's been getting more unruly all week. My scent keeps him calm. I started using unscented stuff so he could get all up in my unfiltered reek.” Laura's nose crinkled at his choice of words, but he continued. “Gave him my PE shirt to drown himself in all that Stiles sweat for tonight. Planned to give him the shirt I sleep in tomorrow morning to wear through the day.”

“You've been controlling him with your scent?” Derek sounded almost offended.

“We've been working on controlling his anger. I beat him up, he sits there and takes it.” He shrugged and waved his still-bandaged arm. “Or he doesn't. This was the first week though, and he hasn't hurt me since.”

“Until tomorrow.”

“Which is why I want your help. How should I deal with him?” Laura watched him carefully, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Wolves need an alpha, Stiles. They need someone to defer to, someone they can help and listen to, who will protect them in turn. Wolves don't last very long without an alpha. Normally I would chain him up, and kick the crap out of him when he gets too violent.”

“So sorta like I do.”

“Except with more blood, yes. You...you might be able to do something else. If your scent, and beating him up has worked till now...Perhaps something a little more...directed could work for tomorrow.” Stiles was interested. Very interested. He wanted to know, needed to know what he could do for Scott. He would do anything.

“Like what?”

***

Scott knew as soon as he rolled out of dreamland that today was going to be rough.

He wanted to move. He wanted to run around, tackle someone, climb a building. Scott kept his eyes closed and breathed.

Stiles.

He was still in Stiles' shirt from the night before, his friend's scent mingling with his own and filling his head with the scent of _pack_. It was odd, how calming that scent was. He wanted to roll around in it, to revel in the feeling of _home_ that scent brought.

His eyes popped open and he remembered the texts Stiles had sent him as he was falling asleep.

**MISCHIEF MANAGER**

_Hey._

_So._

_I've got a plan._

_You're gonna hate it._

_But I need you to follow it, cause  
otherwise I'm probably not   
gonna survive this full moon._

_Stiles what_

_I'm going to pick you up in the  
morning._

_Today is going to be...hard.  
For you._

_Stile tell me whats going on_

_I'll tell you in the morning. It'll_  
be easier if you're not freaking  
out about it all night.

_Just trust me, please?_

_You know I do_

_I know. See you at 730_

His clock read 7:10am, so he had just enough time to shower and eat before Stiles would arrive. Leaping out of bed, he threw his shorts into the hamper and turned on his shower speaker, setting it to some upbeat music before stepping into the bathroom.

On second thought, he felt great! Stiles had to be wrong, today was going to be fantastic.

Maybe he would even be able to have a whole conversation with Allison!

Allison. She was so pretty. Her hair smelled so good. And she always wore clothes that looked so pretty on her. She was so perfect. And sweet. And nice. And she actually talked to him and thought he was funny! _And cute!_

His body started reacting to thoughts of Allison. Reddening in embarrassment, Scott pulled a picture of his grandmother into his head. Then stopped.

Why should he be embarrassed? He was alone, in his shower. Allison was certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Looking down, he twitched.

Why not?

So... he was going to be late. His phone on the counter told him it was 7:25am. Crap, he only had a few minutes before Stiles would be there to pick him up. Music blaring behind him, he turned and threw open the bathroom door, stepping out into his room.

A scent hit him in the face, throttled the breath from his lungs and dropped his knees out from under him.

Scott gasped as he hit the floor, eyes widening and claws bursting from his fingertips. He felt his fangs elongate and hair grew all down his cheeks as his new instincts reacted violently to the scent blowing around his room, emanating from the boy sitting on his bed.

Stiles was early.

Stiles carried the scent that made him want to roll over and bare his throat, made him want to beg for mercy and protection.

“Scott.” Stiles voice rang around his head. It was just his name. But his name carried so much weight when Stiles said it.

“Stiles...” he gasped, confusion barreling through him and warring with his muscles and instincts. He could not move. But he wanted to, so badly. He wanted to curl up on Stiles' lap and just luxuriate in the glow of his alpha.

His alpha? What?

“Wow, that worked a little better than I thought it would. Come here.”

Scott was on his feet and moving forward before he even fully registered the command. Stiles' hand found its way into his hair, and he pressed into the touch, needing more.

What was going on?

“Stiles, what's...Why...?” He did not know what he even wanted to ask. Why was he feeling this way? What was happening? Was this the full moon?

“It's okay, Scott. Calm down, I'll explain.” He nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Stiles' hand so he could look his best friend in the eye.

He had to look away as soon as he caught Stiles' eyes. He could not hold that gaze.

Why could he not hold Stiles' eye? It felt like he would be picking a fight, or poking a bear. But it was Stiles!

“Look at me.” His eyes lifted, and he held Stiles' gaze. His stomach flipped around nervously, and he swallowed. He should look away. But Stiles had told him to look! But he was challenging his alpha!

He was so confused.

“So, remember how I said I had a plan, and I knew some people?” Scott nodded, unable to look away. “They're werewolves.” A curl of jealousy unfolded in his gut. Stiles was talking to other werewolves?! “I'm scoping them out for you, seeing if they can help. Cause wolves aren't meant to be alone.”

“But I've got you!” Stiles was all he needed. He did not need other wolves! Did Stiles not want him? He threw that thought into the dark corner it belonged. Of course Stiles wanted him, they were best friends!

“Stop thinking, I can see your thoughts all over your face.” His mind fell quiet. More confusion rumbled under the surface, but he kept his mind still. Stiles was talking.

“I don't trust them, not yet. Not with you.” The jealousy fled at those words, and he wanted nothing more than to roll over and bare his neck for Stiles, tongue lolling out freely in a display of joy and trust. “I asked them for advice about the full moon, and they said you need an alpha.”

“But you...” Scott cut himself off. Stiles had told him to stop thinking. His friend smiled, and he relaxed. He was not in trouble.

“I told them how you've been using my scent to calm down, and they thought I could take the place of your alpha for the day.” Stiles reached into his shirt and pulled out a leather cord that hung around his neck. A tiny jar with red liquid in it hung on the end of the cord. Was that blood?

“Turns out magic is real too, and they showed me a spell that let me assume the mantle of an alpha. It uses her blood, since she is an alpha, and it just kind of...lets me wear her power like a coat. It doesn't actually do anything, but it makes me feel like an alpha to other wolves.” Scott's eyes widened at the explanation. It made sense then, why he felt the way he did.

He was reacting to Stiles like his friend was his alpha. His instincts were telling him that Stiles was top dog, that he was in charge. They also told him that Stiles would take care of him, that Stiles would keep him safe from other packs. He needed Stiles. Today was the full moon, and other wolves would be out of control. He would be out of control.

He needed Stiles to help him.

A hand in his hair brought him back out of his head.

“You'll be fine, Scotty. But we're gonna have to have a few changes in our relationship for today.” Scott nodded. Whatever Stiles said. Stiles was the boss, he knew what to do. “You're gonna have trouble controlling your impulses today.” He nodded. He had already noticed that. He flushed lightly as he remembered his shower, thinking back on Allison. He felt a dopey smile growing on his face, but when he breathed Stiles' scent drew him back into reality.

No thinking about Allison.

“You should be okay during the day, it won't be as bad. But tonight you're gonna go crazy, and so we need to start preparing for that now.” He nodded and refocused on Stiles' eyes. Stiles wanted his attention. “I know you know a little bit about BDSM.” His eyes widened. What.

“What?”

“Don't worry, we're not gonna have sex! Just...Tonight I'm gonna take a couple pages out of bondage books to handle you. I'm going to stress your control in directions that aren't related to anger and violence, so you'll have something else to focus on. I'm going to reward you when you do well, and punish you when you fail to control yourself. I've got a whole plan. It'll be fine.

“You need to start thinking about obeying me well before that, though. You need to really consider me your alpha, that your life depends on following my instructions. Because it does. And if you can't get into that mentality before tonight, we're going to have a really rough full moon.” He nodded and started leaning forward, but stopped.

He wanted to rub his face all over Stiles' neck. But that was weird. He was still sitting in a towel. He should get dressed.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

“I want to rub my face on you, but it's weird.” Stiles barked out a laugh, and Scott felt himself blush. Why had he just said that?! Crap. Wait. He was listening to Stiles without hesitation. That's what Stiles said needed to happen. Maybe it was a good thing?

“It's okay buddy, rub away. Get all this alpha scent up in your nose.” Scott lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Stiles, burying his face in his friend's neck. He smelled so good. It was like being buried in blankets of safety and love and friendship. “My first command, Scott, is that you need to tell me things. If you think you need anything, tell me. Got it?” He nodded and inhaled that overwhelming scent. He needed that with him all day.

“I need your scent with me today.” The words slipped out of his mouth quietly. It was embarrassing! But Stiles had told him he had to say what he needed. He probably had not expected Scott to be so needy so soon.

“I figured you would.” Scott pulled away, but Stiles' hand in his hair kept him from getting too far. Stiles reached into his backpack on the floor and pulled out a t-shirt. Scott reached out and took it. It smelled like Stiles. It carried his scent so strongly. Stiles shrugged. “I slept in it. Figured you'd need some help. Go get dressed, I'll get you some breakfast.” Stiles tugged on his hair lightly before standing and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Stiles' shirt was a little tight, but it was so comfortable. It carried his best friend's scent like a cloud, surrounding Scott with it and wrapping him in a shield from the rest of the world. He threw on pants and shoes, eager to be downstairs again. Embarrassment at how needy he was being tried to rise up in him again, but he crushed it. Stiles had told him to stop thinking so much. And that it was okay to need things.

It was the day of the full moon, he was supposed to be a little off.

He leaped down the stairs, backpack in hand, as soon as he was dressed. He put a jacket on over Stiles' shirt. It hid his friend's scent a little, but it would also keep it from fading as quickly. And it would get the smell all over the jacket, so he could keep it long after he had to give the shirt back. He groaned and dropped his head against Stiles' shoulder, despairing at his desperate thoughts.

It was going to be a long day.

***

He was amazed at how easy his day was going. Scott was desperate for his attention and approval which, while so weird, made him hopeful that tonight would be okay. They met up between classes that they did not share, and Stiles walked Scott everywhere with an arm around his shoulder. Scott reported that he was doing well, that there had been no urge to maim or kill. No desire to pee on anything either, which Stiles had not necessarily worried about, but he would call it a win either way.

They sat with Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny at lunch, which Stiles thought could be a problem. Scott was entirely focused on Allison, even to the point of ignoring Jackson's existence. That was definitely a win in Stiles' book. The two lovebirds confirmed their plans for Friday, and Stiles gave Scott his cookie when he gave no reaction to Jackson mocking his bowling skills. Scott's face lit up at the reward like the cookie was the best present he had ever received.

He turned red when Allison mocked them for being adorable, but it was clearly in jest and she seemed to honestly think it was cute. Stiles laughed and that made Scott relax, smiling at the girl of his dreams again while he crammed half of Stiles' cookie into his mouth.

“Hey, Stiles.” He blinked when Allison pulled him off into a corner after he dropped Scott at his Biology class.

“Hey, Allison. What's up?” The girl shuffled her feet and brushed her hair behind her ear before speaking, clearly gathering her thoughts. She seemed nervous. Uncertainty was a lot cuter on her than it was on Scott. “Hey,” he rested a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “Whatever it is, just say it.” Okay, maybe he could have been less blunt. He was getting used to giving Scott direct commands though, and it was just easier than thinking about being delicate.

Subtlety had never been his strong suit anyway.

She nodded and took a breath to steady herself before lifting her eyes to meet his.

“I just...I guess I wanted to ask permission to date Scott. Which sounds weird. You're his best friend, not his dad, and I shouldn't need permission, but you're just...You guys are close. And I feel like I'm never going to even have a chance with him if you disapprove. Everyone thinks you guys are dating, which I know you're not, but you're so close it's basically like you are, and you guys just...”

“Hey, hey, chill. It's cool. It's all good. Breathe.” Allison chuckled and listened, breath heaving lightly from spilling everything all at once. “You're right, you don't need my permission to date him. He's a big boy, you're a big girl, you can make big kid choices.” She turned red and he chuckled, squeezing his hand on her shoulder. “But I appreciate it, Allison. I like you, and it means a lot. So, here's my blessing, or whatever. Go for it, turn Scotty into a man, or whatever.” She covered a laugh with her hand, face burning even redder. He grinned broadly in response.

The final bell rang, startling both of them. “Ah, shoot.” They bid each other farewell and both turned to sprint for their classes.

The remainder of the school day passed without incident, until Lacrosse practice.

Because of course Jackson's douchebaggery could only be ignored for so long. The obnoxious human spent the whole practice bumping into Scott, stealing his passes, and making comments about his inferiority. So really, nothing different than any other day. Stiles did not even need to intervene, Scott managed to ignore him each and every time.

Until they were leaving for the locker room.

“He won't hold on to Allison anyway. Too busy settling for butt-buddies with Stilinski to be any good for her.”

Aw, shit. Stiles ran forward to intercept Scott, knowing his friend would be unable to ignore derogatory comments about himself and Allison. He reached Scott just before his friend actually leaped on Jackson, grabbing his jersey and spinning around, swinging Scott to the ground.

“Don't move,” he growled, staring into Scott's face. The werewolf started to rise up, unwilling to back down from being manhandled, until he got sight of Stiles' face. He had to be confident. He had to seem like Scott's alpha. He held Scott's gaze, channeling all of the inner confidence he possessed, until his friend nodded and looked away. He reached out and rubbed Scott's hair briefly before turning after Jackson. He stopped Scott, but now he had to protect his wolf. That was an alpha's job, and if he was going to be Scott's alpha, he needed to protect his friend.

No matter how much trouble it got him into.

“Jackson.” He pulled his fist back and started swinging as soon as the words were past his lips, so the asshole turned around right into the punch. Fist cracked against cheek, and Jackson stumbled, dropping to the ground. His hand hurt. His hand hurt so bad, that was possibly the worst idea he had ever had.

“Stilinski, what the fuck?” Danny cried in shock, running over to Jackson. The jock shrugged Danny off and stared balefully at him from the ground. Stiles refrained from shaking the pain out of his hand and glared back, doing his best to channel the alpha power floating around him from the necklace. Laura had said humans would be able to feel it too, but that their instincts were not wired to react as strongly.

Clearly not being a werewolf meant Jackson did not care. He leaped to his feet and rushed him.

“Jackson!”

He dug his feet into the ground, yelping when Jackson's superior strength lifted him and threw him down. The other boy dove on top of him and threw a punch that he barely blocked. Jackson's other fist connected with his face, and he held in his cry. Rearing his leg up, he meant to wrap it around Jackson's neck and pull the bigger boy off him, but accidentally kicked him in the head instead. It had the same effect, stunning Jackson long enough to push him off, so Stiles rolled over and leaped after him.

Danny caught him and threw him off to the side, and Coach Finstock's whistle stopped all other motion.

“Bilinski! Whittemore! What in the name of all that is good and holy has gotten into you!” Jackson started making some excuse, but the shrill scream of the whistle cut him off again. “I don't care! I should bench both of you for the next game!” Jackson glared at Stiles, and Finstock's voice softened slightly. “I'm not gonna do that, because Jackson you're too good, and Stilinski already lives on the bench. This is your last warning.

“McCall, Danny. Get your boyfriends cleaned up and take ‘em home. Make sure they don't start clawing at each other again.” He turned and strode past them into the locker room. “Ladies, the lot of ya.”

Stiles pushed himself to his feet and strode over to where Scott still sat on the ground, unmoving from where Stiles had commanded that he wait. He accepted Stiles' outstretched hand and they both silently made their way to get changed. Neither one spoke until they were back in the jeep, and Stiles worried that he had overstepped his bounds, or misinterpreted what he needed to do as Scott's alpha.

“Hey.” Scott's hand on his shoulder drew his attention, and he felt the anger melt off his face at Scott's cautious puppy-dog eyes. His friend leaned over and rested his forehead on Stiles' shoulder, clutching at his sleeve. “Thanks. You didn't have to do that.” Stiles shrugged and reached up to rub Scott's head.

“Yeah, I did. Gotta take care of you today, Scotty.” Scott said nothing in response, but left his head on Stiles' shoulder. They pulled away from the school and drove to Stiles' house. The Sheriff was pulling a double shift today, which ordinarily would have Stiles grumpy and brooding. Today he could not be more grateful, because it meant his father would already be gone and would not return until morning.

Pulling into the driveway, Stiles noticed a box sitting on his front porch. It was just a cardboard box, taped shut, with no post office labels. It just had 'Stiles' written in sharpie on the top flap. Scott tensed behind him, fist curling in Stiles' shirt.

“It smells like the scent that was on you last weekend. The one I didn't recognize.” Stiles smiled and nodded.

“That would be Laura, then.”

“Laura?” Stiles nodded.

“Grab that?” Scott stepped forward and picked up the box. It sounded heavy, but his friend lifted it easily. Stiles loved werewolf strength. “She's one of the others I told you I was talking to. She helped me make this.” He tugged on the cord around his neck as he opened the door and gestured Scott inside and made their way to Stiles' room. “She said she'd drop some stuff off to help with tonight. Let's see what we've got!”

“It's freaking heavy, Stiles! Like, probably a hundred pounds, easy!”

“Maybe she was planning on you coming home with me? I don't know how she expected me to get it inside otherwise...” he shrugged and Scott set the box on the floor in front of his bed. Stiles closed and locked the door behind them.

Opening the box made both of their eyes pop wide, the urge to slam the cardboard lid back over the contents flooding them. Scott sat back on the bed, staring at Stiles.

“That's a car battery.”

“Uh huh.”

“And 50lb kettlebells.”

“Yup.”

“And jumper cables.”

Stiles nodded.

“Stiles.” He looked up at his friend, taking in the fear and uncertainty painting Scott's face. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Scott's shoulders, pulling his friend in close.

“Do you trust me, Scott?” The head against his chest nodded, so he carded his fingers through Scott's hair. “Then trust that I will not let anything bad happen to you. That's what the car battery is for. I'm going to hook you up to it, and if you lose control and I can't bring you back, then I'm going to shock you.” Scott stilled in his arms.

“Will that work?” He nodded.

“Laura said it would. I'll set the dial she also included, and it should be fine. It will hurt like nothing else though, so please don't make me use it.” Scott nodded and pulled away, taking the shirt Stiles had loaned him off slowly. He looked like a kicked puppy, even though Stiles could already read the signs that the full moon was reaching out to him. Gold flickered through his irises, his fingers flexed and his nails were elongating.

Stiles grabbed the band in the box that looked like a heart monitor, except it had two pads instead of one. He squeezed the gel included in the box onto the pads, then wrapped the band around Scott's chest and cinched it snug. His friend shivered against the cold gel, terrified eyes boring into his own. He connected the box with the dials on it to the battery, and turned it on. It was connected by a long cable to a small remote with a single button. Stiles grabbed the remote and held onto it. He attached the jumper cables to the prongs sticking out of the band around Scott's chest and connected them to the voltage box.

Scott growled. It was time.

Stiles growled back and his best friend turned glowing eyes on him. Stiles stood to his full height and stepped into Scott's personal space, staring down at him until his friend lowered his eyes. He reached up and carded fingers through Scott's hair.

“You will only call me 'Alpha' from now until the sun rises.” Scott growled lowly, but nodded. His fists clenched and Stiles saw blood drip from them. “If you do well, I will reward you. If you fail when I tell you to do something, I will punish you. Do you understand?” Scott nodded again. “Say 'yes, Alpha.'”

“Yes, Alpha.” the words were growled through fangs, but Scott had said them. Stiles tugged on Scott's hair and stroked down his neck.

“Just in case, I want us to have a safeword. Pick something that you could never use on accident.” Scott remained silent for a moment.

“Melissa.” He nodded in response.

“That's good. Alright, we're gonna start off nice and simple. Remember, do exactly what I tell you, and we'll both get through tonight. Deal?” Scott nodded. “Okay. Come get a good, deep sniff, then I want you to hold your breath as long as you can.” Scott's brow furrowed – confusion looked funny on a werewolf face and Stiles had to suppress a laugh – but then he stepped forward and buried his nose in Stiles' collar.

He let his friend smell him for a few seconds, gently carding fingers through his hair. Then he tightened his fingers and drew Scott back. “Inhale.” Scott did and he took a large step back.

Scott stared at him, fingers flexing. Stiles moved into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, turning the faucet on to get hot water. While it warmed up he stepped back into the room and watched Scott. He stared for a full minute before Scott's fingers began clenching and twitching more frequently.

“Can you keep going?” Scott nodded jerkily, clenching his fists. More blood welled up from cuts his claws scored into his palms. Stiles grabbed the cloth and got it wet, wincing under the hot water and then wringing it out. He shook it to remove the worst of the heat, then returned to the room.

Scott's face was turning red. Stiles inhaled slowly, forcing himself to not worry about his friend. He knew it was impossible to suffocate by holding your breath. The worst that could happen is Scott blacked out and started breathing against his will. Which, honestly, might be the best case. It would exhaust him, which is something Laura had said would be important. That they needed to find activities that they could do indoors that would exhaust Scott and give him something to focus on.

“Hold it as long as you can.” Scott nodded, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

He lasted almost four minutes, finally expelling the air from his lungs in a great wave, sucking in fresh air in great gasps. Stiles stepped forward and pulled Scott's head down onto his shoulder.

“Good job, Scotty. You did really well. You lasted almost four minutes!” He gently took his friend's hands and cleaned the blood off of them with the damp cloth. It was cool now, but not cold. Scott shuddered and breathed against him, lungs heaving. “We're gonna do that again. It's a nice, easy way to start.”

“Easy?” Stiles smiled and let out a light chuckle, squeezing Scott's hand. He had to remember to be careful of the claws.

“Yup. This is cake. As the moon gets higher you're gonna be harder to manage, so we're gonna be doing harder and more involved things as the night goes on.” Scott shuddered again. He wrapped his arms around him, avoiding the jumper cables and rubbing his nose against the side of Scott's head. “You'll be okay, Scott. Just listen to me, listen to your alpha, and you'll be just fine.” He nodded. “Good boy. Now, take another deep breath. This time I want you to make it to four minutes.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

They repeated the exercise two more times, Scott managing to make almost five minutes on the last run. His goal then had been five minutes, so Stiles shook his head as he let Scott rest against him.

“You couldn't make it to five minutes, so we're going to move on to the next thing. It's your punishment for not doing what I asked.” Scott snuffled against him then stepped back, nodding sadly. The sad puppy eyes nearly broke him. He reached forward and rubbed his friend's head. “It's okay, Scotty. Not reaching a goal is different than disobeying. You're still doing really well!” He received a small smile, so he turned to the battery and picked it up.

“Follow me.” Scott trailed behind him obediently, never letting the cables pull taught. Stiles led him into the office on the main floor. It had a treadmill no one ever used, but which would be perfect for helping Scott get out some energy. “What do you want to watch?”

“Happy Tree Friends.” The response was immediate, and Stiles was a little surprised. Scott hated shows with senseless violence. He shrugged. Whatever. If Scott needed to watch violence to avoid violence, who was he to judge?

“Mkay. I'll load it up. Start running. Set it to the highest speed and the highest incline.” Scott huffed out a sigh but listened, hitting the power button and moving. The highest speed was only 14mph, which would be a heavy jog at best for Scott. He hoped jacking up the incline would make it more worthwhile.

And the fact that he planned to make Scott run until he passed out would probably help too.

They made it through the entire first season before Scott was breathing heavy, feet pounding on the rubber as it pushed him to run uphill.

“You're doing great, Scott.” He made his voice hard, but encouraging. It was dark outside, and Stiles could see the moon. They were past the easy stage, and Scott needed an alpha to keep him in check now. He could be nice, but he had to be commanding.

Commanding had never been one of his strong suits either.

“I'm going to put on Tokyo Ghoul. It's pretty violent, should keep you going.”

“Fine.” The word was bitten out through fangs. Scott's eyes were permanently glowing and Stiles had given him stress balls to clench his fists around so his claws would not constantly dig into his palms. His breath came in a steady, deep rhythm. Stiles tracked it to be four steps in, four steps out. Aside from an occasional growl on the exhale, Scott made no other sounds.

Another hour passed without event, but Scott's breath was heaving by the time that episode ended. He was down to two steps per inhale and another two on the exhale, sucking the air in and out through his mouth.

“Stiles.” He moved to stand in front of Scott, watching as sweat dripped down his friend's body. He had found a headband to keep the sweat out of his eyes, and it was soaked through.

“Can you keep going, Scott?”

“I don't...I can't...” His words were broken by his gasps for air. His skin was flushed and his claws had torn the stress balls into shapeless masses of fluff.

“I want you to keep going, Scott.” His friend growled in response. He growled back, and Scott winced, lowering his eyes.

“Yes...Alpha.”

“Good job, Scott. Do you want another episode?” He nodded. “Keep going. Go as long as you can. Don't hurt yourself. Tell me when you can't continue.”

“I can...Do it.” Stiles nodded and smiled.

“I know you can.”

He pressed play.

Scott only managed one more episode before he stumbled. Stiles had been waiting for it, so Scott only managed to hit a knee on the rubber tread before Stiles' arms were around his chest, hauling him sideways off the treadmill. Careful of the cables, he arranged Scott on the ground so he was on his knees and elbows, forehead on the ground between his arms.

“Just breathe. I'll be right back.” He left the room after rubbing a hand over Scott's sweaty shoulders. His friend would be fine within a minute or two, so he had to be quick. He grabbed a towel from the closet and a bottle of water.

He returned to find Scott on his feet, fists clenched and a low growl emanating from his throat.

“Scott.” He made his voice hard. Glowing yellow eyes lifted to meet his, and failed to look away. Crap. Stiles maintained eye contact, but used his peripheral vision to confirm that the jumper cables were still properly hooked up. He had left the remote by the door, and it was in easy reach. He could not be the first to look away.

Carefully, he grabbed the remote and squared his shoulders.

“Stand down, Scott.” He pretended he could push the feeling of _alpha_ out of him, push it down on Scott and force his friend to calm down. Blood dripped from his hands again, staining the carpet.

Stiles had a lot of stains he would need to remove in the morning.

Scott growled at him.

“You have one more warning. Drop to your knees.” Scott bared his teeth, and started moving forward.

Stiles pushed the button.

It sounded like an old photograph being taken. A quick, rising hum followed by sharp pop. Scott dropped to the floor with a roar, limbs twitching and eyes rolling back into his head. His hair burst up with the static.

He strode forward and knelt beside his friend, reaching out to check for a pulse. It stammered beneath his fingers, rapid and unsteady, but present. Scott groaned and rolled into him, curling up in pain and pressing his nose into Stiles' knee.

“Stiles...” he groaned. “It hurts so bad.”

“I know, Scotty.” He trailed his fingers up from Scott's pulse and into his hair, tugging lightly at the poofy strands, still dripping with sweat.

“'m sorry, Alpha.” Stiles held in his sigh, folding his legs so Scott could use his thigh as a pillow.

“I'm sorry I had to do that to you.” Scott reached up a hand and grabbed onto his shirt, undoubtedly punching holes with his claws as he fisted it.

“I'll do better next time.” Scott twisted weakly, shuffling his body so he could stretch his neck out, baring it across Stiles' leg. He breathed out slowly, calming himself. Scott submitting to him like that was a big deal. He had read enough about wolf behavior, and talking with Laura had confirmed some things, to know just what a big deal it was for Scott to bare his throat. Especially in the middle of the full moon, when his instincts for fighting and violence were at their highest.

Sliding his hand back down from Scott's hair, he scratched gently over the bared skin. Scott shivered and Stiles rested his palm just over Scott's collar bone, long fingers curling around the back of his neck and stroking his thumb softly over his pulse point.

“I know you will.”

***

“And you just...cuddled?!”

Stiles smirked and nodded. Derek threw his hands up in disbelief while Laura fell back into her chair laughing. Scott had wound up falling asleep shortly after being electrocuted, so the remainder of their full moon passed uneventfully. Derek could not believe he was still in one piece, and he seemed to be personally offended that Stiles had dealt with Scott's first moon so well.

“I zapped him – which sucked, by the way. Do not recommend, but it worked like a charm – and he dropped like a sack of dirt. I checked that he was still alive, and he apologized and bared his throat. Then he fell- what?” Laura stopped laughing and sat upright suddenly enough to cut Stiles off.

“He bared his throat?” Derek's eyes were wide.

“Yes?” Maybe it was an even bigger deal than he had thought? “Yeah,” he continued, “He stretched out like this,” he tilted his head back to demonstrate. “So I just kinda put my hand like this and rubbed his neck until he fell asleep.”

“Holy shit.”

“Why do I get the feeling that was not what you thought would happen?”

“Because he should have curled into a ball to protect himself, and taken your arm off for trying to touch his neck while he was so hurt!”

“Stiles...” Laura trailed off, face twisted in several directions like she could not decide on which emotion she wanted to portray. He waited for her to say something. “It sounds like...He _actually_ accepted you as his alpha.”

“Isn't...wasn't that what we were going for?”

“No! I mean kind of, yeah. But not really?” Stiles lifted an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue. If Scott had not accepted him as his alpha, the previous night would have been a whole lot worse! He thought that was the whole point of the vial of blood, and the commands, and the 'yes alpha!'

“Honestly, I'm surprised you were able to keep control of him. Even with all the preparation, I expected for you to call us saying he got loose, or that you were in the hospital, or something.”

“Ouch, hurtful. Continue.”

“Shut up. I knew doing those things were your best bet, but I did not actually expect them to work. They're the kind of things that only real alphas can usually manage, and that's with calm betas who have already been through their first full moon. It's...It's stuff my mom would have us do as kids.

“If he bared his throat to you...then Scott has accepted you as his alpha with his entire being. It's not just a game you were playing to help him keep calm, you _are_ his alpha now.”

“I mean, I get why that's kind of a big deal, but I still don't think I'm really getting why it’s such a Big Deal with capital letters for emphasis.”

“Because you're not a wolf. Werewolves don't bow to humans.” Derek's face seemed to be etched into a permanent scowl. While it made Stiles' stomach flip, Derek's face also made him grumpy by proximity. Derek made grumpy contagious. “We're predators. You're prey. For a predator to consider prey its alpha is like...It's just...”

“I get it, don't hurt yourself.” Derek's lip curled and he growled at Stiles in response.

“Stiles...It's kind of a huge deal. I don't know if you'll ever be able to find Scott a real alpha now.” Oh. Well that could be a slight problem.

“But don't werewolves need a pack? Won't he be like, an Omega, or whatever? What'll happen if he doesn't have a real alpha?” Laura shrugged.

“Normally he'd go crazy, lose control, kill a bunch of people and eventually get taken out by hunters or another wolf pack. With Scott...I don't know.

“I think you should introduce us. Let him get to know us. He can...” she looked over at her brother and they communicated silently. After a few seconds, Derek nodded and she turned back to him. “He can join us, join our pack. You're welcome too, of course.”

“Humans can be in a pack?” Laura shrugged.

“Sure. It's a magical bond forged by intention and emotion. We like you-”

“Speak for yourself.” Stiles shot Derek a bright smile.

“We _like you_ ,” Laura emphasized the words and glared at Derek, “so sure. You can totally be in our pack!” Stiles nodded. It would be a good idea. He liked the Hales, and he was sure he could get Scott on board with the whole pack thing. It would be good for both of them, so it was not just Stiles figuring out how to help his best friend by the seat of his pants.

“I'll bring him by Saturday?” Laura nodded.

“I'm excited! We'll order pizza!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Magic comes in many different forms.” Stiles nodded, eyes glued to the table, trying to mentally catalog all of the instruments and ingredients laid out before him. “In reality, you can perform any feat of magic with nothing more than your will.” He lifted his eyes from the table to take in the veterinarian on the other side.

Dr. Deaton had agreed to meet with him and begin training him as Laura's emissary.

Every Tuesday and Thursday at 7pm, Stiles would help Scott and his boss close down the clinic. Dr. Deaton would then take them down into the basement where he kept all of his more interesting supplies. Scott would usually sit off to the side, paying attention but never engaging. He thought magic was interesting, but he had enough on his plate. He would let Stiles be their magic wiz.

“So then why do we use tools at all? Why not just...will whatever we want to happen?”

“Because it takes discipline and focus, and understanding. Magic is all about belief, no matter what you are trying to do with it. If you do not believe your spell will work, then it will not. There are no exceptions to that rule.

“Let's use a location spell as an example. Tell me the things you would likely need to cast a location spell on a person.”

This was Stiles' fourth meeting with the druid, and the previous three had been spent learning how to care for magical implements, what innate properties various plants and metals possessed, the meanings behind shapes and alphabets. A lot of theory that, while interesting, was not really magic. It was preparing him to learn about magic, however, he could see that now. Maybe he would question Deaton less; the man was a good teacher, if you had the patience to deal with him.

“I would want a map of the area I believed my target to be in. Some of their blood would be ideal and I could stop with just those two things. Lacking the blood, my next choice would be something they had an emotional connection to, something owned or touched regularly, or a photo of them. In order of usefulness.” He received a nod and a tiny smile of approval. He crushed the urge to dance happily.

“Now, what if I told you that you had nothing more than a map?” Stiles thought for a moment. Magic was all about intent, and belief. He thought about location spells he had seen in pop culture, and decided he could adapt. If he could do anything with magic, why not copy something out of a television show?

“Can I have a lighter?” Deaton shrugged. “Then yes, I could do it with just a map, if I knew who I was looking for.”

“Are you certain?” Stiles nodded without hesitation. The doctor liked to question his conviction. Stiles knew he had a lot of crazy ideas that should never work, but Deaton had spent their first lesson drilling him over and over about belief. Laura would probably regret encouraging him to learn magic, because Stiles would never doubt himself again.

Doubt was his new Enemy Number One.

“Very well. What if I told you that you did not have a map? You have no idea where this person could be. You do not know their name, and you have never seen them in real life or in a photograph. You own nothing of theirs.” Stiles paused, thinking.

“Can I have a globe and a dart?” Deaton blinked at him, then coughed out a laugh. Stiles blinked in shock. He had never heard Deaton laugh before. He had never seen _anything_ that could suggest a lack of composure! The man shook his head, smiling.

“Perhaps I underestimated your creativity. Do you understand the point I was trying to get at?” Stiles nodded. He did. He _really_ did.

“If you can't imagine how a spell could possibly work without something, you can't do the spell. If I were locked in a cement room with nothing, I could not perform a location spell.” Dr. Deaton chuckled again, but it was a moderate chuckle, as opposed to the earlier one that had sounded torn from him.

“If you believe that is the only instance where you could not perform a location spell, then you will be a terrifying force, Stiles. But yes. That is the point I was making.

“Now, having told you all of this, I will teach you how to do things in what _I_ believe is the best way. And by 'best' I mean 'safest and easiest.' I will strive to never tell you that anything is impossible. Simply because I lack the comprehension or creativity to do something does not mean that you will not find a way to prove me wrong with time.” Stiles nodded, appreciating the statement.

Dr. Deaton really was a great teacher.

As a great teacher, he gave Stiles homework. He stifled his groan as he carried the book Deaton had given him out of the clinic. It was a thick tome, hand-written on thick parchment paper so Stiles would estimate there were around 300 pages. He was supposed to read it by the coming Tuesday and have made notes of everything he deemed important. Their lesson would undoubtedly be related to whatever he read, so there was no way he could skim it or slack off on the notes either.

His notes were meticulous. Deaton had given him two other books thus far. After he finished the first one, Stiles decided he needed a reference system. So he dedicated a brand new composition notebook to the purpose of holding his notes about the books he would read under Deaton's tutelage. The first page would be a table of contents with the title of each book he read. Eventually he was sure he would run out of room and have to start a new notebook, at which time he would probably need to figure out a new system.

Maybe he should digitize everything...

His phone vibrated in his pocket just before he started his jeep to head home.

**MS KROFT**

_Hey stiles. Bring Scott over to the_

_loft when youre done with D. Ive_

_got some people I want you to meet._

“Laura?” Stiles nodded in response to Scott's question.

“Yeah, she wants us to come meet someone at the loft.” The Hale siblings had finally moved out of their motel. Stiles introduced them to Scott the weekend after his first full moon, and it had been the tipping point for them.

Laura adored Scott. She thought he was the cutest, fluffiest puppy in the entire world, and she relished the chance to guide him through his wolfy adolescence. Derek spent a lot of time posturing at Scott, and it made their relationship more tumultuous. Stiles spent a lot of time standing between them, because he trusted neither of them to be willing to go through him to get at the other. Derek would never hurt him because Laura would kick his ass.

Scott would never hurt him because, in spite of all the love between him and Laura, he was as yet unable to accept her as his alpha. He listened when she told him to do things, but whenever there was a question, or he disagreed even slightly, he would always turn for Stiles' input. His reluctance to listen to her over Stiles left a bad taste in Laura's mouth, but she loved Stiles too. She knew it was all alpha instincts getting under her bonnet, and she did her best to not take Scott's reluctance personally.

Sending an affirmative text in response, Stiles started the jeep and took off for downtown Beacon Hills.

When any of them referred to 'the loft,' they really meant the apartment block that Laura happened to own in the middle of downtown. Her father had been big on investing, and some of that interest had gone into real estate. Robert Hale had bought several apartment blocks and collected rent on all of them. When the fire happened, selling the apartments would have been almost as much work as maintaining them, so Laura had requested her Lawyer simply have someone else manage them. 5% of the income from the buildings went into their savings account, and the rest went to the poor sap their lawyer had hired.

Their lawyer had liquidated all of the other investments Robert held. Those funds on top of the life insurance policies, property insurance, and the money Robert and Talia had in their own savings accounts left the two remaining siblings a serious fortune they had no idea what to do with. With just a little sprinkle off the top, Laura had closed off the top floor of one of their high-rise apartments and they were in the process of converting it into a glorious living space for the two of them.

And anyone else they brought into the fold.

That was probably the reason Laura wanted them to meet up with her. Laura had been talking about expanding the pack, and Stiles had given her a couple people at school to look into. He would bet anything that they were going to meet up with his top picks.

Stiles mentally fist-pumped when he opened the door to the main room the two stayed in and saw several people he recognized, if only just.

“Stiles. Scott.” Laura greeted them with a smile. Three pairs of eyes turned at her greeting and widened in surprise. “I'd like to properly introduce you to Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey, and Boyd.

“Erica! Good to see you! You're looking well!” Stiles crowed, prancing forward to shake her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his friendly welcome, but she returned his shake with a firm grip of her own. His grin widened. She looked past him and reached out for Scott's hand, so Stiles turned to Isaac next.

“Scott. Haven't seen you in the hospital in a while. I expected more from you during winter.” Scott chuckled warmly and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened for a moment before relaxing into it a little. He pulled back and clapped her lightly on the shoulder before she could grow too uncomfortable.

“Isaac, it's been forever! Like, a whole day!” Isaac's lips pinched like he was trying to repress a smile, trying to look cool for the new cool adults in his life. He had always been shy and quiet, so Stiles decided not to take offense and turned to Boyd after he released Isaac's hand. Scott exchanged a quick bro-hug with Isaac and greeted Boyd with a nod.

“Hey, I'm Stiles. Good to actually meet you, rather than just existing in the same area.” Scott groaned and dropped his forehead on Stiles' shoulder. Boyd quirked a smile and nodded before releasing his hand. He turned away from his three classmates to look at Laura with a grin.

“So?” Stiles queried. “New recruits?” Laura bobbed her head and smiled.

“Yup! I gave them the skinny and they're gonna spend a lot of time with us the next few days. I decided we should bite Erica first tomorrow night after school. We'll let Isaac and Boyd see what the transition is like, since they don't have pressing medical incentives.” Stiles nodded, but he had a question.

“Don't you want to wait until after the full moon?” His alpha shook her head.

“No. Tonight is the new moon, and the closer to that she turns, the weaker her initial instincts will be. She'll have two weeks to build up her control before then, and it has the benefit of removing her risk of hospitalization.” Stiles shrugged and gave Erica a bright smile.

“Welcome to the team!”

“Thanks, I guess.” she grinned shyly. “So what do you guys do?”

“Howl at the moon.” Erica and Isaac both choked, startled. Derek scowled and Laura rolled her eyes, while Boyd simply blinked. Scott shoved his shoulder and gently nudged Erica toward the couch. It rested in front of a large TV, which Scott turned on before making his way into the kitchen. “Nah, I'm just kidding. Usually when Scott and I are here we're doing werewolf stuff. Talking about what problems he's had, how I dealt with them, what we want to do as a pack, how my magic lessons are going, yada yada.”

“Magic? Seriously?” Stiles grinned at Isaac and nodded.

“Serious as a heart attack. It's pretty sweet. I'm just starting though, so I can't do much yet.”

“He's going to be good though.” Laura announced, and Stiles reveled in her proud tone. “He made himself a powerful glamour with no training and just a little bit of my blood.” Scott smiled ruefully at Laura, still a bit regretful he had given his loyalty so completely to Stiles. He set a glass of water down in front of Erica then took up a position behind Stiles so he could rest his chin on his friend's shoulder. The three newcomers gave various questioning expressions, but Stiles just shrugged.

“It was a bit much, honestly. It messed with Scott's instincts. I made the mistake of wearing it once around Laura and she almost killed me.” He shuddered then winked at Laura. She rolled her eyes and took a chair and pulled it near Erica's spot on the couch. Boyd sat down next to the blond girl and Isaac moved to hold up the nearest wall with his shoulder.

“Why would she do that? What was this glamour?”

“It made me seem like an alpha. Wolves are...sensitive. Betas like Scott can sense alphas for safety reasons. He...well, I used it on his first full moon to help him stay safe and in control. It worked a little too well and he adopted me as his alpha. He can't accept Laura, he's only even in the pack because I am. I wore it around Laura, and her instincts to remove the intruding alpha almost earned me a claw to the face before she caught herself.” All three turned wide eyes on Laura, who nodded seriously at them.

Good, they should understand how serious things could get.

Laura ordered them all pizza, and they spent the evening eating and chatting. Erica was the first to open up, her sharp tongue and brutal sarcasm earning Stiles' affection and Derek's dismay. Laura loved her and laughed loudly when her various creative insults broke someone's ability to respond to her.

Isaac shared his interests quietly, but was unwilling to talk about more than the things Stiles and Scott already knew from school.

“He's afraid of his father, of talking about him.” Scott whispered into his ear after the third time the other boy managed to segue a conversation about family into something school-related. Stiles caught Laura's interested gaze while Scott softly whispered about the scent of fear wafting around Isaac whenever the conversation turned too personal.

Boyd surprised them by diverting the conversation from Isaac more than once, quietly breaking in about his own family. He had a lot of siblings and his dad was out of the picture, which Stiles knew all of them had personal experience with. Boyd offered very little information when asked but he seemed attuned to Isaac's discomfort, or had noticed Scott's whispers and Stiles calculating glances and drawn conclusions. Stiles would need to keep a particular eye on him. Observation skills like that could become downright terrifying once he obtained a werewolf's abilities.

***

Monday morning brought with it a new level of popularity and attention Stiles had never anticipated.

Erica had received Laura's bite on Friday evening with copious swearing, but had otherwise been nothing but pleased. Apparently she had been dragged down to the mall for a makeover, but Stiles had spent most of the weekend with Scott and their parents, so he had been blind to the results of that trip.

Until she sat down on his lap in the middle of lunch, in front of Jackson, Lydia, Danny and Allison, and settled her suddenly very-noticeable cleavage right next to his face.

“Hey, hot stuff. Everyone else. We're joining you guys today.” Isaac and Boyd settled onto the bench like normal people, but Stiles missed their arrival. He was too busy trying with every bone in his body not to stare at the wonderful gifts begging for his attention right in front of him.

Right in front of him.

They were at eye level.

They were literally begging for his attention.

No human possibly had the self-control required to not look.

He tried so hard to keep his attention on his friends, or Erica's face. Her very attractive face, done up with makeup subtle enough he could not identify what she had done, but that emphasized her eyes and lips in ways that were almost enough to keep his attention.

Almost.

He looked.

“Real nice, Stiles.” Lydia sighed, grimacing at him.

“I'm sorry! They're...I...They...” he slammed his eyes closed and tried to drop his head in shame, but that just introduced Erika's gifts directly to his face. He lurched away hard enough to fall backward, and only Erika's weight on his lap kept him from falling all the way to the ground. Jackson let out a disbelieving groan.

“God, Stilinski. You're such a virgin.”

“Not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it.” Stiles stopped breathing and refused to lift himself back up. Erica laughed haughtily and slid off his lap, sitting between him and Boyd as his legs joined him on the floor of the cafeteria. He was done. Erica had killed him, after announcing to the world that she wanted to have sex with him.

Erica.

With him.

Erica and Stiles.

Having sex.

“You look great, Erica!” Bless Allison, for trying to draw attention away from him. He stayed on the ground and let her work.

“Thanks! New treatment, prognosis is good. I'm supposed to be seizure free from now on, so I felt a change was in order.”

“Perhaps a little strong,” Lydia said primly, “But it's always nice to see another pretty girl realizing what she's got.”

Stiles opened his eyes as two pairs of hands grabbed his legs and shirt and hauled him back onto the bench between Scott and Erica. His best friend kept his hands on him long enough for him to get settled, squeezing his hands gently. He nodded and lifted a hand to run it over Erica's shoulders. She settled back into his arm with a grin, tossing her hair over the shoulder not pressed against him. Scott turned his attention back to Allison, but his foot snaked over and discreetly wrapped around Stiles' ankle.

Huh. He would have to make sure to scent Scott soon. His friend had been doing remarkably well since his first full moon, but if he got jealous of Erica...

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing away from Erica to set his chin on Scott's shoulder. “Come over after practice.” He rubbed a hand over Scott's back and Scott nodded, flexing the foot still tangled with Stiles' in a subtle hug. Stiles grinned, bopped his head against Scott's, then threw his arm back around Erica. Erica grinned and settled against him without interrupting her snarky back-and-forth with Jackson.

Lydia was looking at him, eyes squinted in concentration, like she was trying to figure him out.

He ignored her.

***

“You smell like Argent.”

“Woah, hey there, Mr. Growly,” Stiles stepped between Derek and Scott as the older wolf glared at his friend. They had _just_ arrived after working with Deaton all Tuesday afternoon. Could they not have a couple minutes of peace before having stupid sexy werewolves get all up in his hormonal face? “Of course he smells like Allison, they're dating.” Those dark eyebrows turned down to glare at him instead of Scott, and Stiles would swear until he was blue in the face that they absolutely did not hatch butterflies in his stomach.

That would be unhealthy.

Fear could not become one of his turn-ons, that was unacceptable. He spent too much time afraid these days. No way.

No.

Scott's hand on his waist was enough to draw his attention back into the present and the tense air vibrating between the wolves on either side of his body.

He really was in a terrible position for someone so breakable.

“Wait, wait.” Laura cut in, rising from her chair in front of the TV to join them by the kitchen counter. “Allison _Argent?_ You're _dating_ an Argent?! The fuck, Scott?!”

“Why is that such a big deal?” His hand twitched convulsively on Stiles' waist, a light pricking sensation signaling the arrival of Scott's claws. He leaned back into his friend, bumping his chin with his head and throwing him off balance enough he had to refocus himself. “What's wrong with the Argents?”

“They're hunters.” Derek growled.

“Like, big game hunters? Or like...scary werewolf hunters and that was a stupid question because why would you care if they were game hunters?”

“Wait, Allison's from a family of werewolf hunters?” Erica piped up, leaving the bathroom and joining them with quick steps. “I thought you said there weren't any in the area!” Derek growled again, nose crinkling up in a sneer.

“There weren't when we arrived. They must have moved when they heard we were back in town. They cornered Derek at the gas station earlier today and threatened us to 'behave ourselves.'”

“Oh my gosh, what are they the mafia? Behave yourselves? What does that even mean? Did he smash your car windows as a pointless display of power too?” Derek's glare deepened and Stiles' jaw dropped. What. “They did didn't they!” He laughed, running his hand over his short hair. “Ohhh my god, Scott your girlfriend's dad is actually The Godfather!”

“This isn't a joke, Stiles!”

“Derek.” He snarled at Laura's soft command, twisting sharply and stomping away from them to glare out the window. Stiles threw an unimpressed glare at Laura. He could handle her brother, he didn't need her help. “He's right though, Stiles. They're dangerous, and if Allison turns out to be a hunter, or-”

“She's not a hunter!”

“Shut up, Scott.” Stiles slapped Scott's arm softly under Laura's glare. “Sorry, continue.” Her nostrils flared, undoubtedly once again hating her lack of control over his friend.

“ _Or_ ,” she stressed, “If her family finds out what you are, it could put all of us in danger. The Argents follow a code, which makes them better than other hunters, but if they think I've been turning people, then they'll consider coming after us justified.”

“That's ridiculous. What kind of code is that? Oh, they're monsters but we won't kill them unless they try to help someone. Real smart. Real nice code.” He turned to Scott. “I hope Allison's apple fell far from that tree, buddy.” Laura shrugged, frowning.

“It's not like there's anything we can do about them. There are more of them than there are of us, so we have to play nice and keep off their radar.” Wait, what?

“Nothing you can do? Are you serious?” So she was just gonna give up and hope they decided to let her exist? Not on his watch. Growling, he turned toward the door and pulled out his phone.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” He waved his hand behind himself dismissively.

“I'm gonna go tell 'em to back off.” Derek's violent snarl drew his attention away from where he was pulling up Allison's contact card. He had thrown himself away from the wall and was stalking toward Stiles with shining blue eyes.

Aw, crap.

“Derek!” They both ignored Laura's indignant cry and Scott's threatening growl as Derek pushed him up against the wall. Damn werewolf posturing. He held Derek's gaze, refusing to flinch even as he heard claws popping holes in his shirt where Derek held him.

“What are you gonna do, huh? Go up to a house of heavily armed hunters and tell them to be nice to the werewolves they've been hunting for generations? They'll just think you're one of us, and you'll be lucky if they don't shoot you on the spot.” Stiles waited until Derek fell silent. He held the werewolf's gaze and stared back unflinchingly. The others watched, unwilling to act for fear of escalating the tension to full on violence. Laura lost points for being unwilling to control her brother, but he did not need her help. Derek's fingers grew lax with uncertainty as Stiles refused to be cowed.

“Are you done?” Derek bared his teeth at him in another silent snarl, but released him with another shove and backed away.

“Stay away from the Argents.”

“No.” Derek growled and Laura snapped at _him_. He turned to her and ignored her brother. “No, Laura. I'm not gonna let you just sit here and hope the hunters decide not to kill you. I'm human, so I'm going to take my human ass over there, and I'm gonna threaten the humans with the full extent of the human law if they ever do anything to you, because as far as my dad and the other humans know, _you're human too_.” Now Laura bared her teeth, eyes flashing as she growled at him.

“Stiles, I'm the alpha, and I-”

“Protect the pack. Yeah, Laura. I know. So _do your job_ and let me deal with the Argents.” He turned away from them and made his way back to the door. Silence rang out with his footsteps and he slammed the door behind him. Stupid werewolves and their stupid posturing and stupid self-sufficiency. He huffed out a breath, shook out the tension and stiffness in his limbs and pulled up Allison's number.

“Stiles? What's up?”

“Hey, Ally. I gotta come over to your place for a bit. Your parents home?”

“Yeah, we're just finishing dinner. What's up?”

“Nothing, I just have some papers from my dad, told him I could bring them over since I'm not busy anyway.” See? He was a great liar. If it were not for stupid werewolves and their stupid ability to hear his traitorous heart and smell his stupid emotions, he could get away with anything.

“Oh, yeah sure! I'll let him know you're coming!”

“Thanks, see you in a bit!”

Hanging up the phone, Stiles sent his dad a text.

_Hanging out with Allison for a bit._

He received an acknowledgment just before he started his car, nodding to himself. Good. Now his dad, the Sheriff, knew he would be at the Argents tonight. Laura and all of the pack knew he was going to talk to the Argents. If they decided to go all Godfather on him and make him disappear, everyone would look at them first.

Step one: establish high ground. Check.

The drive to Allison's house only took a few minutes, and Stiles used that time to steel himself. He was nervous. This was almost as bad as when he first approached the Hales about helping Scott. Revealing what he knew to people who could hurt him for that knowledge was apparently something he needed to get used to. Maybe Derek was right and his sense of self-preservation was severely lacking.

Who was he kidding, he knew perfectly well how lacking it was. He regularly let violent werewolves put their teeth within biting distance of his neck. He was going to threaten werewolf hunters without any backup.

Yeah, he had no self-preservation at all.

His pack needed him though. His alpha could not deal with the hunters. He was the only human who knew enough, who had the right connections. He had to do this. It was up to him to keep them safe, no matter how scary or dangerous it would be.

That thought firmly entrenched in his mind, he slid out of the driver's seat and marched up to the Argent's front door.

He was the son of the Beacon Hills Sheriff, a man who dealt with terror and criminals every day. That man was his father, protecting everyone he could. If his dad could protect people, then so could he.

Stiles rang the doorbell of the lion's den.

Ha. Lions. He wondered if werelions were a thing. If werewolves could exist, why not werelions? He had read a Harry Potter fanfiction once where a witch could train to transform into a lion to protect her family. Could that be a thing? Magic was real after all.

Could he learn to shapeshift? Deaton had said magic was only limited by his imagination and belief. Maybe he could transform himself into a lion.

The door opened, revealing a man who could only be Allison's father. Middle-aged, with silver streaks in his hair, broad shoulders that suggested a life of physical activity. Stiles had never had a thing for silver foxes, but looking at this man he could definitely see why others would.

“Can I help you?” Stiles startled, wrangling his nervous thoughts into their hard, defensive pattern. He needed to be in control. He needed to channel his inner alpha, just like he did with Scott. Powerful. Capable. In control.

“Hi, my name's Stiles Stilinski, I'm one of Allison's friends from school.”

“Nice to meet you, Allison's upstairs. I can get her for you.” He began to turn away.

“Actually, sir, I need to speak with you. I'm not here about Allison.” Mr. Argent narrowed his eyes curiously.

“Well then in that case, how can I help you?” Stiles took a small breath.

“I want to talk about the Hales.”

Mr. Argent's face shut down like a blast door, all trace of any emotion disappearing instantly.

“I'm not sure why you think I would know anything about the Hales, but-”

“You've got a really terrible poker face, Mr. Argent.” Surprise flickered across his face before he could hide it. Stiles pinched his lips to keep himself from smirking. “Can we take this inside where wandering ears won't hear?”

“You think I would invite...One of your kind into my house?” His nose crinkled up in disgust, and Stiles almost felt offended.

“I'm not a wolf, Mr. Argent. I'm totally human. Scratch me with silver, or whatever kind of touchstone you've got to keep from killing innocent people. I'll wait.” He crossed his arms, and Mr. Argent simply stared at him, face blank. His face was blank, but his lack of action twisted Stiles' thoughts in directions he had never thought of. Did they not...?

“Don't...don't tell me you don't have a test.” The man's face darkened into a scowl. Holy crap, this was even worse than he had thought. “You don't even have a way of making sure the person you're hunting isn't human!?” Rough hands grabbed him and hauled him inside. He yelped loudly as the door slammed shut and he was shoved into it. It actually hurt less than when Derek had done it ten minutes earlier. What was his life that he had a measure for how hard people slammed him into solid objects?

“Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now.” Stiles sneered at him, holding his gaze just like he would to a posturing werewolf.

“How about I give you a couple? First off I'm a human, you arrogant ass-munch.” Fists tightened in his shirt and Argent's eyes flickered down when he noticed the holes that had been made by Derek's claws. “Second of all, everyone knows I came here to see you. I told Allison. I told all of my friends. I told my dad, who happens to be the Sheriff and would not take it well at all if I made it here and then never made it home. Who do you think the first person he would go after would be huh? After all my friends and your daughter confirmed that I disappeared immediately after leaving to talk to you?” Argent's lips curled up and he grit his teeth in anger as Stiles continued talking. Normally he would shut up at this point, trying not to anger someone who obviously wanted to hurt him.

But he had a job to do.

“So yeah, unless you're an idiot and a psychopath and your so-called 'code' doesn't actually mean jack shit, you're gonna let me go right now.” The man glared at him for another long second, but then he released his hold on Stiles' shirt and backed up a step.

“Very well. I would appreciate it if you left now.”

“Oh, nuh uh. We haven't even gotten to the part where I threaten you yet.”

“Excuse me?” Argent's gaze grew flinty again, and Stiles had to crush his feelings deep down all over again. He could do this. Think alpha. Channel his inner alpha. He had a pack to protect.

“You heard me. I'm going to threaten you. Leave my pack alone.” Wide eyes and flared nostrils expressed the man's anger and surprise once again. Did he even have more emotions than anger and surprise? Stiles kind of wanted to see them at this point, if only to prove they existed.

Focus, Stiles.

“So you want me to just ignore the murderous beasts, let them bite and kill whoever they want?” What? Seriously?

“Okay wow, you're obviously a terrible hunter and apparently I shouldn't even be worried because you know nothing at all about werewolves.” He received an audible snarl for his snark, but he just took a step forward. He was almost as tall as the other man. It was not an effort to tilt his head up to hold those angry eyes. “None of them have hurt anyone. They're just trying to live and be happy. But apparently they're not even allowed to get gas without asshole bigots smashing in their windows unprovoked.”

“It was not-”

“Whatever you're gonna say, dude, I'm willing to bet the gas station cameras will disagree. Should I get the footage? You know, since my dad's _the Sheriff_ , I can get my hands on it pretty easily.” He let his face curl up in an unpleasant smile when Allison's dad remained quiet.

“On that note, here's the threat. Leave my pack alone, Argent, or I will be the shitty little teenager I am and tell my daddy on you, and he'll bring the cops to your front door before you can even get home from hurting my friends. Even if I can't prove your guilt hard enough to get your ass thrown in jail, I can absolutely get enough for an investigation. And I'm sure the people you sell weapons to and get your permits from would _love_ to see that you've been investigated for...What charges? Harassment? Assault? Murder? I can go on. Do I need to go on? Are you picking up what I'm putting down? Do you understand me?”

“I live by the code. The code demands that we hunt those who hunt us.” Stiles blinked at him. That was their code? Seriously?

“Is that it?” The man blinked back at him as though he could not understand Stiles' confusion. “That's your code of ethics? That's what tells you who is okay to hurt and who isn't? No wonder you're such a shitty bigot, that code sucks!” Argent's face was growing red, but Stiles was done. He had made his threat. It was time to leave.

“Hang your code, Argent. I'll keep my friends in line, and you keep your goons away from us.”

“If they hurt anyone-”

“You'll do jack shit.” Argent growled at his interruption.

“I won't-”

“Do anything,” Stiles cut off again, “Because otherwise I'll have you arrested. I'm thinking about getting a restraining order on you for smashing Derek's windows. Should I start with that, just so you know I'm serious? Push me, Argent.” He took another step forward to get right into the man's space. “I don't care what you think you're trying to do,” he whispered, making his voice as threatening as he knew how. He was not a big person, and he knew he did not have a threatening bone in his body. But he would make this man understand how serious he was.

“I will not let-”

“Yes, you will. You're on the wrong side of this fight, Argent.” he took a step back and pulled open the door. “Make sure you realize that before you make me take Allison's father from her.” He turned and leaped off their front steps, striding toward his jeep without looking back.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text as he pulled open the door to his car.

**Ally Cat**

_Hey, Stiles...Can we talk?_

Uh oh. Why would she ask him to talk right after leaving her house? He was sure she knew he had been there, but...

_Sure, what's up?_

He started his jeep but waited for her response, flailing wildly when someone knocked on the passenger window. Allison was looking in at him, clearly fighting a smile. He unlocked the door and she pulled it open to hop into the seat.

“What's up, Ally Cat?” She grimaced at the nick name, but said nothing. She breathed in silence for a few seconds before squaring her shoulders and turning to face him.

“I overheard some of what you and my dad were talking about.” His stomach dropped out and he frowned. Crap. She was not supposed to get involved. He wanted her perpetually, blissfully unaware so she could date Scott without any hang ups!

“Okay...And?” She glared at him.

“And I don't understand! I want to know what you were talking about, why you were threatening my dad!” He took a deep breath, preparing to tell her that she should stay out of it. “If you won't tell me, then I'll have my dad tell me.” He blew the air out of his lungs and dropped his shoulders. “I want to hear it from you, because it sounded like my dad was...not being a good person. I don't want to believe he would hurt anyone...but I need to know the truth, Stiles.” He smacked his head back against his seat.

“Crap. Okay. Um...” he turned his eyes toward her. “Give me a minute?”

“Why?”

“I need to call...someone. I can't...I can't tell you without them, Ally. There are secrets I'm not at liberty to discuss.” She held his gaze for a long couple seconds before nodding. He pulled up Laura's number.

“Stiles? Are you okay? Did you...talk to Argent?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, it went reasonably well. Sort of. I...Laura...I've got Allison next to me. She...she overheard me threatening her dad, and she wants to know whose side to pick.” Laura heaved a sigh that was at least half-growl. “I know. I feel the same. But Laura...I think this could be good.”

“How, Stiles? Please, enlighten me how having the hunter's daughter know about us could _possibly_ be a good thing?” He ignored her tone of voice.

“If she chooses to side with us? That will just be one more point of defense against the others. Can you meet us somewhere? I want...I want to show her.”

“Show me what?” He ignored her, waiting for Laura's answer.

“Stiles...” he waited. He heard her sigh and let his shoulders relax. “There's an abandoned train depot down town. Meet us there.”

“I know it. See you soon. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet, Stiles. This is...” She huffed in aggravation and he started the jeep, pulling away from the Argent's house at last. “I'm not happy about this, Stiles.”

“I know. I'm not either, but it is what it is. And if it works out, then bully for us. I'm driving now, I'm hanging up.”

“Fine.”

He ended the call and tossed his phone into the center cup holder.

***

Allison did not sit with him at lunch on Wednesday.

She pulled Scott away from their usual table, which put this hurt, kicked-puppy look on Scott's face as he looked between his retreating girlfriend and his best friend. Stiles noticed and waved him away, murmuring that everything would be fine. Scott reluctantly followed the huntress, leaving Stiles alone with Erica and the to-be betas. Lydia paused before sitting, noticing the lack of Allison and Scott, found them, and narrowed her eyes at Stiles before flouncing off to sit with the couple. Jackson glared at him, but otherwise gave no indication that he cared about their new arrangement. Stiles sighed and bit into his sandwich.

“Stiles...What just happened?” Isaac and Boyd both turned their full attention on him at Erica's question. He rolled his eyes and set his food down.

“I threatened Allison's dad, Allison overheard me and demanded to know why. So I introduced her to Laura.”

“That explains why she smelled like Allison last night...” He nodded to Erica's quiet statement and continued.

“She freaked out a little bit, but promised to talk to her dad. I'm assuming she hasn't yet and is currently still a little scared of and pissed at me.”

“Scott keeps sending these cute little kicked-puppy looks over here, like he wants to come over but he doesn't want to leave.” Isaac announced, smirking and taking a gulp of milk. “It's adorable and pathetic.” Stiles groaned.

“Oh my god, Scott. Chill out, things will be fine,” he said as though he were talking with Isaac. The curly-haired boy lifted an eyebrow at him but said nothing. “Just keep Allison happy so she doesn't get pissed at you too. You're the one her dad wants to kill, so don't give her a reason to suspect you.” Dammit, Scott. He felt a warm curl of affection that his best friend was so beat up over not sitting with him, but it was one day. They could eat lunch apart for one day until Allison figured her shit out.

It was not one day.

They sat separately on Thursday as well, and Stiles was glumly anticipating that they would go through the same drama again on Friday.

He woke up flailing when a frantic Laura called him in the middle of the night.

“Stiles, Erica's been shot!”

“Wha-huh?” he asked intelligently. Then his alpha's words caught up with him. “Wait, what?! Erica? How? When?”

“She was running patrol with Derek. Someone shot at them and one of the bullets hit Erica. Stiles...It was poisoned with wolfsbane. Stiles, I...I don't...” Stiles hauled himself out of bed and scrambled for shoes and a sweatshirt.

“Is there a cure? Please, Laura, please tell me there's a cure!”

“We...We need the same kind of wolfsbane, but Stiles...I don't know...”

“So we need another bullet.”

“That would work, but Stiles...we don't...Stiles, I can't...” He took a deep breath. Sometimes he forgot how young Laura was, that she was not really that much older than him. Less than ten years, and she had spent most of that time with a mother who handled all the big problems that came their way.

“I'll get it, Laura.” He could get another bullet. He knew who the culprits had to be. Unless there were other hunters than the Argents, in which case they were probably even more screwed. “Keep her safe.” He hung up without waiting for a response, flipping through his phone to another number.

It rang six times before someone finally picked up.

“Stiles, you know-”

“Ally, one of your crazy family just shot Erica and she's dying and I need your help.”

“Wh-Erica? Erica Reyes? Stiles, what?” He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down to explain better.

“Erica Reyes is a werewolf, Allison. We bit her to cure her epilepsy. Someone shot her tonight, Allison, with a wolfsbane bullet. It's poisonous to them, and she's going to die if I don't get her another bullet to counteract the poison.”

“How do you-wait. Hold on.”

“Ally, we don't exactly-”

“Shut up, my dad is talking to someone.” Stiles waited as patiently as he could, counting his breath and singing softly to himself to stave off panicky thoughts. He got four breaths before Allison spoke again.

“Stiles...It's my aunt Kate. She just got in. She's...she said...” Stiles heard Allison's voice tremble. “Stiles...She said she 'got one of the betas.' Stiles, did she...She couldn't have...”

“Allison, I need you to breathe, and listen to me very carefully. Are you breathing? I want to hear you breathe.” She took in a shuddery breath, then another one more steadily. He could imagine her nodding to herself, forcing her breaths to come slower. “Okay. Are you ready?”

“What do I do?”

“I need you to get one of the bullets, Allison. If Kate is the one that shot Erica, it will probably be in her bags, near her guns or bows, or weapons, or whatever. I don't care how you do it. I just need you to get one of those bullets as soon as you possibly can.” She took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay. Okay, Stiles, I can do that. I'm going now.”

“Be careful, Ally. I don't...I don't want you getting hurt.”

“I'll be fine. I'll text you when I have the bullet.”

“Okay. Okay, thank you, Allison. I owe you.” She hung up. Stiles exhaled heavily and tossed open his door, running down the hallway. He flew through the front door and locked it behind him, throwing himself behind the wheel of his jeep.

Then he noticed his father's car in the driveway.

His dad was not at work tonight.

His dad was in the house, probably awake now from all the noise Stiles had just made.

He was so dead.

Stiles peeled out of the driveway, shoving thoughts of his father into the back of his mind. He could say Scott needed him, or something desperate. Yes, it was a school night, but this was an emergency! Scott could have died! Yeah, that would work. Hopefully. Probably not, but there were bigger things to worry about.

Like Erica actually dying.

Just barely managing to keep himself at or below the speed limit, Stiles stopped a couple houses down from Allison's and settled in to wait. He praised gods he did not believe in when he received a text from Allison mere minutes after he arrived.

_Got it. Hopefully. There was a  
box labelled aconit napel bleu  
nordique so hopefully thats it_

_God I love you. You're amazing._

_  
I'm stealing you from Scott._

_  
I'm outside._

_Be right there_

Stiles exhaled heavily and left his car, sprinting toward the Argent's house. He snuck around to where he knew Allison's window was, watching impressed as she quietly climbed across the roof. He bit off an alarmed shout as she _threw_ herself into the air, tucking into a flip and landing on the ground with a controlled roll before popping to her feet.

She held a bullet out to him with an open palm. He grabbed it and yanked her into a rough hug, gasping his thanks into her neck.

“I'm coming with you.” What. No! That-

“Fine. I don't have time to argue, let's go!” He whisper yelled, turning back to his car and running. Trading the bullet for his phone he called Laura and put in on speaker so he could drive.

“Stiles?”

“I've got it. I'm on my way to your place.”

“Oh thank- hurry, Stiles. She's...it's bad.”

“I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!” Laura hung up as he threw the car forward, lurching down the road. He made it to the apartment in record time, frantically dialing in the code to open the door. He called the elevator, inserted the key Laura had given to all of them to access the top level, pressed the button, and inhaled deeply once the elevator began moving. Stiles took several deep breaths to calm himself, ignoring Allison where she stood next to him, nervous and silent.

Laura was going to kill him for bringing her along.

She had gotten them the bullet though, so she deserved to be here.

He burst through the door and made his way toward the couch, taking in the two werewolves hovering anxiously. Derek flashed his eyes and snarled, making his way toward them. Crap, they so did not have time for this. He marched toward Derek as the werewolf stalked toward them.

“Stiles what the hell is she-” He lifted an arm toward Allison, preparing to bar their way.

Stiles punched him in the throat and shoved him to the side.

Holy crap, he just did that.

Derek stumbled to the ground, gasping and choking, as stunned as everyone else at Stiles' actions. Stiles kept making his way quickly around the couch, yanking the bullet from his pocket and suppressing a wince when Erica came into view.

She looked like she was dying.

Which, he guessed, she was.

Her hair hung in lank, sweaty strands around her face, her mouth hanging open as she pulled rasping breaths into her lungs. An ugly bullet hole marred her left arm, dark veins spreading from the wound like something out of a Resident Evil movie.

“I've got it, what do we do?” Laura's eyes met his and he saw them shimmer with tears. She reached out and took the bullet, yanking out the top with her claw and dumping a light purple powder onto the coffee table. She passed him a lighter.

“Light the powder on fire.” Her voice shook and she stepped away from him when he took the lighter.

“Me? Why can't you do it?!” There was no way he could do this! What if he did it wrong? He couldn't cure Erica, that's what they had an alpha for!

“I can't touch it, Stiles. It's wolfsbane!” Oh. That made sense. Crap. It really was up to him. Laura bulled ahead like she could hear his resigned thoughts. “Light it, scoop the ashes into your hand, then press it to the wound. Use your magic belief powers to make it work.” He blinked at the last bit, but nodded.

Laura said it would work, so it would be fine. He could do this.

The lighter struck up a flame easily, and he set it to the purple powder on the table. It sparkled and flared, catching fire quickly and burning out into a black ash just as fast. Stiles swept the ashes into his hand and turned toward Erica.

She looked so terrible.

This had to work, or she would die.

Probably soon.

Laura moved to her head and held her shoulders tightly. Stiles made eye contact and, at his alpha's nod, he pressed the still-hot ashes to the bloody wound in Erica's arm.

She screamed the screams of the damned as Stiles clutched at her, light purple fumes twisting through his fingers and curling through the air. The wound burned under his hand like the poison was being purged out by fire. He grimaced and held his hand to her arm until she settled back against the couch, Laura no longer pressing down against her thrashing, and the purple vapors stopped rising from the wound.

The black veins were gone when he lifted his hand, only a bloody hole where the bullet had penetrated her arm. While still slow, Stiles could see the wounded flesh creeping closed before his eyes.

She would be fine. He had done it. Erica would survive.

He turned and vomited all over the floor.

***

“Thanks, Ally. For helping us.” The two were back in Stiles car, sitting idle down the street from the huntress' house. She turned to face him and he gave her a small smile. Everyone was in Allison's debt, and they knew it. Derek, once he stopped choking, had chosen to ignore her in favor of cleaning Erica up and settling her comfortably. Laura had gone so far as to hug Allison while crying her thanks into the girl's shoulder.

Stiles spent that time cleaning his vomit off the floor.

“It's...I...It was the right thing to do, Stiles. Erica is...she's...” Stiles looked up at her, willing to let her get her thoughts in order. He could read the conflict on her face, cautiously interpreted her fierce frown as a realization that her dad might actually not be the good guy.

“She's just a kid...Stiles. They all are. For all that Laura and Derek are adults...They're barely older than we are. And Erica. Stiles, Erica could have died tonight because....Because my aunt just...” Tears gathered in her eyes and she inhaled sharply before continuing. She scrubbed her arm across her face and turned in the seat to fully face him. “Kate shot at someone she could not even see, Stiles. Erica could have been human for all she knew. I heard her, my dad asked if she knew 'which beta she hit,' and she said no. She didn't...Stiles...she didn't even care.” Allison's voice wavered again, and Stiles reached out a hand for her.

She grasped it like a lifeline.

“My d-dad gave a...a token protest, but then...Stiles...my _dad_ didn't care either! He _didn't care, Stiles!”_ She screamed, releasing his hand to burying her face in her palms as tears tore themselves from her chest. She sobbed for just a second before she sucked in a breath, growling as viciously as any of the wolves. He leaned subtly away from her, crossing his arms and settling back against the door. He could tell when he needed to keep quiet.

It was hard, but he could tell that he needed to be totally silent then lest she turn that anger on him.

A couple deep breaths later, Allison turned wet eyes on him. Tears still leaked from them, but her face had grown hard.

“Tell me what I can do, Stiles. Tell me how I can help.” He reached out a hand, and the girl took it without hesitation.

His smile lit up the car.


	3. Chapter 3

“I'm gonna kick his ass. I'm gonna hold him down and kick him in the teeth until his pretty little face is less pretty, maybe enough that even Lydia can't stand him. Actually, even better. You hold him down, with all your werewolf strength. You hold him so I can shove my foot so far up his ass I can still kick him in the teeth!”

Scott barked out a laugh at Stiles' ranting, somehow the calmer of the two. The lankier boy was pacing back and forth across the room, hands flailing wildly as he worked through his anger at Jackson.

“It's not funny, Scott!” The werewolf wilted when his friend turned, gesticulating _at_ him instead of aimlessly. “He knows! Well, he knows something! He was taunting you during lunch! From across the room! He's figured something out, and if he managed, it's only a matter of time before someone who actually matters does! Or worse, before he tells someone!

“Maybe we should just have Laura bite him.”

“Stiles no!”

“What, he wants to know so bad, let him in! Give him someone who can control him instead of just letting him run wild!”

“We don't want Jackson in the pack! Knowing him he'd...he'd kill Laura for the alpha powers, or something!” Stiles whirled his arms around aimlessly again. Scott ducked back just in time to avoid getting smacked.

“Yeah, you're right. He's too douchey to be controlled. Maybe she can just kill him.”

“Stiles!”

“Fine, if we can't kill him and we can't turn him, can we at least return to my plan of kicking his teeth in?” Scott groaned and flopped backward onto Stiles' bed.

“Just...ignore him? Please?”

“Ignore him? Scott, what is up with you, man? It's the full moon! Why am I the only one of us planning ways to kick our enemy's ass?” Scott shrugged. He had been wondering the same thing. He was just...calm. Listening to Stiles rant about Jackson, plotting ways to get back at him on Scott's behalf...It felt good. He had no reason to be upset, his alpha was dealing with everything.

Oh.

“I...I think it's actually...because you're so up in arms about this.”

“What? That...What?” Scott shrugged again, smiling and turning to lock eyes with his best friend.

“Like Laura keeps mentioning, you're...like, my alpha, or whatever. You're...like...taking care of my problems. There's nothing for me to be upset over, because you're dealing with it.” Stiles groaned and flopped down next to him.

“Ugh. It's not like you were codependent enough with the sniffing” He laughed again.

“Right, because it's not like you've been dragging me along and taking care of me for years anyway. I'm willing to bet you've still got my spare inhaler in your backpack.” Stiles flushed and a curl of warmth unraveled in Scott's gut. On impulse he rolled over and buried his nose in Stiles' neck, reveling in the feeling of Stiles' arm curling around his shoulders automatically.

“You're such a freaking puppy. You're not even a real werewolf are you. You're like, some-”

The doorbell ringing cut him off. Both of their heads lifted, looking first at Stiles' bedroom door, then at each other, then back to the door. The sheriff would be at work for another hour, so it was just the two of them in the house. Neither had been planning on anyone coming over. Stiles leaped to his feet and made his way downstairs, Scott following close behind.

“It's Isaac.” Scott announced quietly, recognizing the scent creeping under the door as Stiles started unlocking it.

“Isaac? What's he doing here?”

“I...He smells...off.” Casting him another quizzical look, Stiles pulled open the door.

“Hey, what's up, Isaac? What brings you here?” The curly-haired boy before them looked over their shoulders into the house before answering. There was a layer over Isaac's normal scent that made his toes curl, his gut twisting in discomfort.

“Is...Your dad's not home, is he?” Listening intently, Scott found Isaac's heartbeat. It was...much faster than it should have been. Combined with the gross, sour and coppery scents, he was almost certain that something was really wrong with Isaac. Stiles seemed to draw the same conclusions without the aid of supernatural senses, because he immediately turned and gestured for Isaac to enter the house.

“He won't be home 'til six. Come in. Tell me what's wrong.” He closed the door behind Isaac, locking it loudly before turning back to their to-be packmate. “Scott, go get Isaac a drink.” He nodded and turned away without hesitation. Whatever was wrong with Isaac, he should be more comfortable with Stiles.

As he poured water into the electric kettle, he pondered how weird it was to think of Stiles as protective and nurturing. Sure, his friend had always had his back, had always been willing to step in front of Scott when they got into trouble. But he had never done the same for anyone else that Scott had ever known.

He could not tell if he was jealous of Isaac for Stiles' attention, or if he was glad the other boy was on the receiving end of his friend's care.

“I'm okay, Stiles. I just...” Scott waited quietly for the water to boil, focusing his hearing on the pair in the other room. Stiles would undoubtedly tell him about their conversation later anyway, so may as well save them all some time by listening in. “I just needed to get out of the house.” Stiles remained quiet for several long seconds, and Scott could practically feel the laser vision that would be trained on Isaac's face. He heard shuffling, probably Isaac shifting his weight under Stiles' gaze.

“Come on upstairs, let's go play video games. You can spend the night here, I'm taking Scott to the Hale's in a little bit for the moon.” Scott's eyes widened. Stiles was using his 'I know your secret and I'm going to end someone without you ever knowing' voice. It was quiet and calming, giving out comfort and love in order to hide the rage Scott knew would be simmering deep in Stiles' core. The last time Scott had heard that voice was just before his mom kicked his dad out of the house. Stiles had complained quietly about his ruined plans when he found out that Scott's dad was no longer around.

He dropped a tea bag into a mug, filled it with the now-boiling water and made his way to intercept the pair at the stairs. They made their way up to Stiles' room and Scott shivered under the feelings he could detect rolling off Stiles. His face was carefully blank, a gentle curl of his lips implying that he was calm and happy. His hands hung loosely at his side, swaying gently. His steps were easy and light.

It was a lie, and Scott had learned to read Stiles' lies long before he gained the smells and hearing to weed them out of other people. He looked up, snatching Stiles' eyes, and received a small shake of the head in response.

Stiles would tell him later.

Shrugging his shoulders, careful not to spill the hot tea, Scott pasted a bright smile on his face and gently rubbed a hand over Isaac's shoulder as he passed him. He set the tea on Stiles' bedside table and gestured back to it before dropping to his knees in front of the TV. “That's for you. Peach-orange blossom, no sugar. What should we play? Zombies?” Isaac hesitated, taking the tea and sitting on Stiles' bed gingerly. The sour-copper scent tickled his nose again as it got heavier for a moment.

“I...yeah, sure. Thanks.” Isaac nodded and Scott grinned, grabbing an extra controller. His and Stiles' controllers lived on Stiles' bed within easy reach. He turned on the PS3 and spied Stiles' eyes subtly roving over Isaac's body. He suddenly rolled off the bed and stepped into his bathroom, the mirror cabinet opening and shutting. He returned and handed Isaac a couple pills.

“Ibuprofen and Tylenol.”

“I dont...” Isaac grimaced, then held out his hand and accepted the pills. “Thanks.”

“Don't worry about it. Go ahead and make a profile.”

Isaac was terrible. He had apparently never played Call of Duty before. He took the entire first wave of Nazi Zombies to figure out the controls, and he and Stiles had to revive the other boy several times before the fifth wave. After a while they switched to Smash Brothers, which Isaac was at least a little better at. He shamelessly turned on a handicap and was able to keep up with them. Scott grinned and gently bumped their shoulders together, happy that the gross scents overlaying the boy's natural smell had faded and were no longer pricking at his senses.

Losing their sense of time, the sound of a car door slamming shut outside made both of the humans jump. The smells reappeared in Isaac's scent and Scott caught a pained wince before it was quickly smoothed over and replaced with what he was sure Isaac thought was a calm expression. He could read the lines of tension in his shoulders and eyes. Stiles looked over and his eyes narrowed at Isaac's expression. There was another cold, prickly scent wafting off Isaac now as well, and Stiles smelled...angry.

Why was Stiles angry?

“It's just my dad. He's home from work.” Isaac nodded tensely, trying to appear nonchalant. Stiles definitely noticed. “I'll have him order takeout for us. What do you want, Isaac?”

“Oh...I'm fine. I...I already ate at...at home.” Safe behind Isaac's head, Scott let his eyebrows and face curl inward in confusion and concern. Isaac was lying, he thought. He was unpracticed at reading people other than Stiles. The boy's heart started beating more quickly and the cold, prickly scent was getting heavier.

“You don't need to lie.” Stiles waved his hand flippantly, rising to his feet. “Chinese good? Orange chicken?” He turned away and opened his door easily, ignoring the panic wafting off Isaac like a cloud. Scott nudged Isaac, gesturing back toward the TV. He considered it a win when Isaac, however reluctantly, picked his controller back up and selected a new character. He inhaled deeply and drank the last of his cold tea, grimacing slightly. The cold and sour scents faded back to tolerable levels.

Shakira's “ _She-Wolf”_ began playing from downstairs. Scott recognized it as the ringtone Stiles had set for Laura, much to everyone's dismay. Stiles quickly finished giving his dad orders for dinner before he answered his phone.

“Ayyy how's my-Woah, Laura. Laura! What...?” Scott's character died as he sat upright and turned to the door, attention fully drawn down to the conversation he could only hear half of. “What?! Are you- Laura, breathe. Breathe, I'll be right there! Don't go anywhere! No, it'll be fine.” Scott leaped to his feet and ran toward his friend as Stiles shouted Laura's name, growling like he would to grab Scott's attention during a wolfy freak out. He leaped down the stairs and rolled to a stop to Stiles pocketing his phone, his dad asking futile questions trying to figure out what had happened.

“Stiles, what-” Scott cut off as the sheriff spoke at the same time.

“Stiles, what's going on? Is everyone okay?” His friend whirled around to face his father, arms flailing and smacking Scott in the face for being too close.

“What! Yes! Yeah, everything's fine, everything's great! Why would you think otherwise?” He wilted under his dad's unimpressed eyebrows.

“Why is Laura Hale calling you, apparently in a crisis?”

“Laura Hale? Why would you think-”

“Stiles!” Uh oh. Scott winced at the raised voice. Stiles' dad was usually content to let his son ramble through his excuses. Stiles' scent was too wild and overpowering for Scott to read anything from the sheriff, but his face was...intense. Eyebrows and lips curled down, laser vision trained on his son, hands clenched into loose fists.

After Stiles' abrupt midnight flight the week before to rescue Erica, the Sheriff had him on a short leash. He had claimed Scott had some severe girl drama, but it was obvious his friend's father did not really believe that to be the case. They were not going anywhere without giving the man a plausible excuse.

“Stiles?” He asked quietly. His friend's wide eyes turned to him, uncertain and on the verge of freaking out. His breath was coming faster than Scott was comfortable with, and he heard Isaac cautiously creeping toward the top of the stairs. He flicked his eyes over to the sheriff, who was still waiting for his son to respond.

“Scott...show him.”

What.

“We don't...We don't have time! Just show him, then we need to get to the loft. Derek's missing.” Oh. Okay, that made more sense. No wonder Stiles was freaking out! Derek missing was a big deal. Anything that could hurt the older wolf would be able to pick them off easily. But still...His eyes must have reflected the uncertainty because Stiles stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder, manhandling him until he was standing right in front of Stiles' dad.

“Okay, Dad. Truth time. Werewolves are real.” Scott felt his friend's hand squeeze his shoulder, and he took a deep breath. Right as the sheriff was preparing his disbelieving retort, Scott let his features change with his exhale. Eyes glowed, cheeks sprouted hair, his raised hands sprouted claws. Stiles' dad's eyes widened and whatever he was about to say died in his throat. Stiles barreled on.

“Werewolves are real, the Hales are werewolves, Derek is missing. And by missing, I mean he was probably kidnapped by some scary creature, or a werewolf hunter. We're going to find him. I would really appreciate if you stayed home with Isaac. He's going through a rough time, and he needs some security. Don't talk to him though, that will just make everything worse. Love you, thanks.”

Scott stumbled as Stiles pushed him forward, driving them past the sheriff toward the front door, features melting back into his human form with a little bit of effort. He got with the program and pulled the front door open before Stiles' dad gathered himself.

“Stiles, you stop right there.”

“Dad there's literally no time! This is literally life or death!”

“Then like hell you're going out there!” Stiles ignored his father and leaped out the front door. “Stiles!” Scott turned and chased after his friend, slamming the door shut behind them to nab an extra second. He slid into the passenger seat as Stiles hit the gas, shutting the door as the sheriff chased after the car, falling into the distance quickly and yelling after them.

“Oh, shit. Oh shit, this is so bad. Scott this is so bad, my dad is going to kill me! He's gonna kill me, but only if whatever got Derek doesn't kill us first, and then he's gonna kill me even harder and I am not going to survive this night, Scott! There's just no positive here! What even is this night!”

Isaac's ringtone blared from Stiles' phone, making both of them jump.

“Ugh. And I just fucking...I left Isaac there, when I _knew_ he had a problem with my dad, and now my dad's gonna be all up in his face and asking questions, and he would hate talking to my dad in a _good_ mood, and now I'm gonna-

“Isaac.” He answered curtly, cutting himself off mid-rant.

“Stiles! What the hell is going on?! Your dad is freaking out and yelling and threatening to throw me in jail and call the deputies on you!” Stiles threw his phone at Scott.

“Deal with this. I need to drive.” He picked up Stiles' phone and put it to his ear. He could hear banging, like a fist on a door. Isaac had probably locked himself in a bathroom as soon as the theatrics started.

“Isaac? Give the phone to Stiles' dad. I'll...I'll handle him.” Stiles scoffed.

“Scott, what's going on?”

“Derek's missing, and we're on our way to Laura's. Stiles revealed werewolves to his dad, and now everything is happening all at once, and we...Just...put him on, please?” A soft 'kay' was his only response, followed by Isaac talking timidly to Stiles' dad through the bathroom door. A soft click reached his ears and then Stiles dad was yelling into the phone.

“Scott! You had better tell me what the _fuck_ is happening _right now!_ ”

“Tell him to stop yelling, he's gonna traumatize Isaac.”

“Mr. Stilinski, can you please not yell in front of Isaac?”

“I don't give-” his voice cut off, and Scott worried about the reason why. The sheriff must have read something off Isaac though, because his voice was much softer as he talked to the boy. “Sorry, Isaac. Why don't you go back to Stiles' room and play games or something? I'll deal with this, you just go relax.” There was no response that Scott could hear, but the sounds of movement reached him over the phone. A few minutes later Stiles' dad returned to the phone, likely having moved away from where Isaac could hear.

“Scott, what is happening? Why are you guys running off? Why is Isaac terrified? What do Derek and Laura have to- werewolves. Scott, what? What?! Start explaining!” In all his years with Stiles' dad basically acting as his second father, Scott had never heard him so distressed and confused. Or loud. He breathed out heavily.

“Okay. So first things first. Werewolves. They're real, so is magic and some other things.”

“What other things?” How could he even answer that? He did not know!

“I dunno, stuff. It's not important! We've got like, claws, fangs, super senses, stuff like that.”

“Okay, fine. Werewolves. I can pretend that's fine. Explain why you are haring off to the Hales!”

“Uh...I guess Derek is missing. Which is a big deal. There are like, hunters and stuff. Allison's family hates the Hales. Allison's cool though! She knows about the Hales and is on our side. She doesn't know about me though. Not yet. Her aunt is crazy and none of us want me anywhere near that.”

“Could this crazy aunt be responsible for Derek's absence?” Scott relayed the question to Stiles, who shrugged.

“Probably.” Scott went ahead and put the phone on speaker, since the sheriff seemed less likely to cause Stiles to crash the car now.

“Laura said her catatonic uncle Peter was also missing from the hospital.” Stiles announced. Scott's eyes popped wide at that. He had not known that. That...could be...

He had no idea what that could even mean.

“Okay...” The sheriff trailed off. “Two missing...is Peter a werewolf?”

“Probably,” Stiles shrugged. “We never talked about him. What I know is what I've read from the files- that I have never seen before, I know nothing!” Scott chuckled softly and Stiles' dad let out a tired sigh. Scott could imagine the man shaking his head and choosing not to pursue that train of thought.

“Okay. So missing catatonic werewolf, missing Derek, crazy hunter aunt. Am I missing anything there?”

“Nothing that we're not missing too.”

“Okay. Tell me about Isaac.” Stiles visibly winced. He blew out a loud breath, probably so his dad could hear how much he did not want to talk about Isaac. “Stiles...”

“I think his dad is abusive.” Scott's eyes widened again at the blunt announcement. In hind sight...It made Stiles' sudden protectiveness and his actions from that night make a lot of sense. Whatever jealousy that remained over Stiles' treatment of Isaac vanished, leaving only pride in his friend and a desire to help Isaac as well.

“I've...I've been watching him a lot. After practice he has a lot of bruises. Most people chalk it up to lacrosse, but he doesn't play much more than I do. I have fewer bruises, and I spend my free time chasing werewolves through the forest.”

“Stiles...”

“Sorry, no getting sidetracked!” Stiles rushed on, wincing again. They were almost to the Hales' apartment. “He's got a lot of bruises. He never talks about his family and is really good at changing the subject without people catching on. Boyd helps cover for him.” Scott's eyebrows curled down as he tried to remember Boyd ever doing that. He had not seen the two interacting enough though, he could not pull up any instances of what Stiles was saying. “He came over today to, I quote, 'get out of the house for a bit,' dad! And he was wincing every time he moved.”

“He smelled...really off. Like sour, and coppery, and whenever we talked about you he would smell really cold and prickly.”

“He...I don't know what to do with that.” Scott shrugged even though the sheriff could not see it. “Okay...He's staying with us tonight, we can deal with his father. What are you doing about Derek?”

“I don't know yet. We're pulling into the parking lot now, I'm going to hang up.”

“Keep me updated!” Stiles chirped a quick 'of course' and hung up the phone. It buzzed almost immediately with a text.

_I expect at least an  
'im alive' text every half  
hour until you get home.  
If things get out of hand  
I expect you to call for  
backup!_

“Ugh, god! I didn't want him involved in this! Now he's gonna be all concerned and try to get involved and he'll be in danger too, and then I'll just worry harder!” He smacked his forehead into Scott's shoulder and groaned, pulling away just as he lifted his arms to hug Stiles.

Keeping his arm around his friend, they turned to head into the Hales' apartment building. “It's okay, Stiles,” he said, keeping his voice as reassuring as he could. “Your dad will be fine. We'll keep him safe.”

***

“Hey, Ally Cat.” Allison turned, jumping slightly as her aunt Kate startled her. “Wasn't there a school dance tonight? Why aren't you going?” Allison was sitting in her chair dressed in a pair of sweatpants and an old tank top. She had a fanfiction page open on her computer, but she had been playing around on her phone instead of really reading. She shrugged.

“I didn't feel like going by myself.”

“What about that cute little boyfriend of yours?” She shrugged, hiding a small smile that she knew she got whenever she thought about Scott. He really was cute. And probably a werewolf. A week ago he had begged off going to the dance, citing 'family needs' as an excuse. He was insanely athletic despite having had asthma recently enough that Stiles still carried around an inhaler for him. He was Stiles' best friend, and Stiles was waist deep in a werewolf pack. If Scott was not involved, she would eat her aunt's crossbow. He could be human like Stiles, except that he wanted to not go to the dance tonight. The dance that was conveniently placed on a full moon night.

Yeah, she was probably dating a werewolf.

Which Kate could absolutely never learn about.

“His mom needed some help with stuff tonight. He's thinking about doing medical school, and so she'll tag him for simple jobs at the hospital occasionally when they're short on their assistant staff.”

“Aw, well that's too bad!” Kate brushed a hand over her shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Wanna do something fun with your Aunt Kate instead? Curious, Allison turned fully to face her aunt, quirking an eyebrow.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I got something I wanna show you.” That was...ominous. Kate wore a sneaky smile, her eyes half lidded with the promise of some juicy gossip. “Come on, put on your archery clothes.” More curious, and growing nervous, Allison found the clothes she wore lately when Kate or her father took her out to practice shooting. Kate had been dropping hints about what she preferred to use her weapons on in the previous weeks, and Allison would bet that tonight she was going to drop the werewolf bomb on her.

Time to start getting into the character of a clueless sixteen-year old girl.

She met Kate down in the SUV her aunt had arrived in once she was prepared for a night in the woods. She had a backpack and her own bow and quiver as well, wanting to seem eager and prepared. Mostly she was just prepared; she would have much preferred to stay inside and read all night. Maybe think about Scott, and how he would be doing under the full moon.

Would he be feral? Would he need to be restrained by his alpha in order to not hurt people? She imagined him bound in chains and handcuffs. They could not bind him perfectly, of course, so he would slash and claw at them and himself, tearing his clothes apart.

He was so...he had such a great body. She wanted to drag her nails across his chest, leave raised red lines that would probably disappear within seconds.

Maybe he would not be feral tonight? Maybe he would just be...a little wild, instead.

What would it be like to kiss him like that? With his control on a knife's edge, the threat of fangs nipping at her with every kiss, claws poking out from his fingers as he held her close. Would she be in danger? Laura had told her that only an alpha werewolf could give The Bite, but all werewolves were dangerous. Would it be a terrible idea to be close to one like that?

“We're here.” Allison jumped, surprised, at Kate's announcement. Flushing red at having lost herself in her imagination so completely, she fled the vehicle and rapidly adjusted her gear to hang comfortably. Then she looked up, frowning when she recognized the old Hale House.

“Why are we here? Isn't this private property?” Kate chuckled.

“Oh, honey. No one monitors this place. Besides, I don't think we'll need to worry about that anyway. My surprise is waiting for us in the cellar.” She gestured and Allison saw the entrance to a root cellar poking out from around the side of the once-grand house. She nodded and followed Kate, controlling her breaths as they descended.

It seemed her guess as to their purpose here would be correct.

“So. Ally. Allison. Did you do that research on our family that I suggested?” She nodded. Kate had given her a medallion that had been passed down through their family for generations. Apparently they had a motto and a coat of arms and everything, and had been known as hunters for centuries.

“We are a family of hunters. And I suppose you're going to tell me werewolves are real?” She kept her voice laden with a layer of sarcasm. She was a teenager. Sarcasm came naturally. Her aunt smiled, a tendril of unease unfurling in her gut.

“I could tell you that.” Kate nodded, turning the handle on the door hiding the room beyond. “But I think you'll believe me faster if I just show you.” She turned the knob and pushed the door open. Allison gasped, unable to even think of faking it before true horror drew it out of her unwillingly.

Derek Hale was strung up before her on a metal grate, face transformed into the visage of a monster from nightmares. She had seen the Hales transformed briefly before, first as an aid to help her believe, then when Erica was in danger. This was only her second time seeing Derek transformed, and he was wracked with pain and suspended like a torture victim.

She was unsure she would have been able to stomach seeing even someone she knew for a fact deserved it strung up like this. His wrists were bound tightly to the metal grate, and there were cables that were obviously, actively delivering charge from the generator that was humming a few feet away.

“So, whadya think? I present a creature of the night, werewolf extraordinaire, monster special!” She reached out to a dial and turned it down, the hum of electricity disappearing. Derek fell slack in his restraints, panting and gasping in pain. She reached up to him and tilted his head, fingers pulling his lips back from his fangs. “Look at these puppies! Imagine what they could do to an innocent little girl like you! Or someone less able to defend themselves.

“Come on, step closer! Don't be shy, he can't hurt you from here.” Allison stepped forward, numb. Derek flinched at her touch, and she jumped in return. Kate chuckled, a sound that made Allison's stomach clench in fear and disgust. “Just look at him, Ally. Look at the brute, brought low and humbled before us. This is what our family hunts, girl!” Kate had slipped back into her fun-aunt persona, her voice bright and playful as she described what their family was.

“Tonight's a full moon, and this monster has a pack. It's a small pack, only one other wolf now, but they're gonna be roaming tonight. Hunting, a mindless monster beneath the full moon.” Derek's vibrant blue eyes peered at them beneath his lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

“How do you know there's only one more of them out there?” Kate grinned and shrugged modestly.

“I shot one of the betas – the weaker ones in the pack – the other week with a wolfsbane bullet. Unless they managed to get a hold of one of those same bullets from my stash, the one I shot definitely died. Then Derek here makes the other beta, and all that's left is the alpha. It's possible they've turned more little beta bitches since then, slaves to their desire to procreate. But I doubt it. New wolves never have enough control this close to the moon, we'd have heard of them.”

So Kate and her father really had no clue about Erica then. Or Scott, if he was really a wolf. Good. That was good. If they thought Laura and Derek were the only ones left...

“Of course, I can't imagine they'd be too eager to rebuild anyway, after I managed to smoke up their last pack of mutts. Managed to take out most of them, only this one and his alpha escaped that!” Allison's eyes froze wide in horror. She... Kate....

She was responsible for the Hale fire?! That fire had killed eleven people! Eleven people, half of whom had been kids!

“Hey, calm down, Ally. I know it sounds bad, but people pay exterminators for the same thing. Removing dangerous pests from areas they don't belong in. They may look like people, but they're not. Not really. They've always got the beast lurking on the inside, their instincts driving them to violence.”

Allison forced herself to breathe and nod. She had to let Kate think she was on her side. She had to...She had to make herself okay with this. For now. Nodding hard, she quirked a smile and turned to face Kate.

“I get it. They're dangerous. So...” She hesitated, looking for words that would sound callous and interested at the same time. “So why would that discourage them from trying to rebuild? If they're so eager to…breed like rabbits...?” Kate chuckled and tossed a hand over her shoulder.

“For all that they’re animals, their pack means everything to them. Everything they do is in the name of the pack. They fight for the pack, to increase the pack's territory, defend it from interlopers, to expand, increase their numbers. It's all for the pack. Take out a wolf's whole pack, you take out its soul. With how big the infestation of this pack was, it would have been a heavy blow to these mutts. They'd need a long time to work up to really rebuilding.” Allison nodded.

“Makes sense to me. So? What are you...gonna do with this one? Kill him?” Kate chuckled and Allison's gut twisted with nausea. No. No she had to be okay. Kate...Kate was not a good person, and if she thought Allison was against her...

What would she do? Would her aunt kill her?

“Nah, I'll keep this one around for a bit. Want to lure his alpha in. That will be easier with live bait. For now,” she reached out and turned the dial back up, releasing the current to run through the restrained Derek. He arched up away from the grate with a roar. Allison jumped away from him on instinct. “Let's head back up. I've got some stuff to do at home. Just wanted you to have some time to think about this, decide if you want to help me rid the world of this pest.” She nodded.

“I'll...have to think about it, a little. Dad knows, right? He can answer questions too?” Kate nodded.

“If you agree, I'd like for us to head up to Washington for a bit, get some real hunter training in with your grandfather. He's the best hunter I've ever met.”

“Grandpa Gerard? Really?” In hindsight, that did not surprise her. He had always had a certain...intensity behind his grandfatherly visage.

“Oh, yeah. He taught your father and I all we know. There's a pack of alpha werewolves, and he-” Allison listened as Kate told her about some alphas her grandfather had ambushed and wounded, nodding and gasping in the appropriate places, asking for more information. Inside though, her mind was reeling. All she could think of was getting away to call Stiles, and how to get Derek free.

Once that was done, she was going to take Kate down.

Her aunt was a monster.

***

Stiles was officially freaking out. Derek had been missing for three hours. The moon had been high in the sky for two of those three, and his dad had been nagging him for updates on the situation and his whereabouts every half-hour on the dot.

Stiles, where are you?

Stiles, have you found Derek?

Stiles is everything okay?

Stiles, Stiles, Stiles!

Could he just rewind time to before this mess so he could figure out an excuse to keep his dad in the dark? Sure it was great knowing his dad cared, but how was he supposed to focus on finding Derek if his dad kept distracting him!?

At least he was staying at the house with Isaac instead of trying to be involved.

He would take his wins where he could get them.

He had just thrown the door to the loft back open, regrouping with Laura and Erica, when his phone went off. Allison's contact info flashed on the screen, so he swiped to accept the call.

He really needed to find a suitable ring tone for that girl.

“Hey, Ally. Now's really not-”

“Stiles, I've got Derek.” A vicious snarl met his gobsmacked expression as Laura came tearing around the corner, face fully wolfed out and fangs bared. Scott stepped between him and Laura, hands held up peacefully to ward her off despite his own befurred features and claws.

“What the hell, Ally!”

“Stiles, he's hurt. He's in my car, but I don't know where to bring him.”

“Here! Bring him here!” Stiles barked into the phone, firmly shutting the minor standoff between his wolves out of his mind. “I'll text you the address, just start driving downtown.”

“Okay. Okay, Stiles. Stiles...my aunt had him. She...she took me down to the Hale's root cellar...” Oh, shit. Kate had him?! What would she have done to him? How did Ally get him out?! She said he was hurt...

“Ally, are there any black marks? Black veins, entry wounds, anything?”

“I don't...He doesn't...He said there...there was no wolfsbane. Just electricity.” Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. He would recover from electricity with time. He would be okay.

“Okay. Okay, that's good. He'll be alright. Kay, Ally? I'm gonna hang up to text you. Drive safe. I'll have Boyd meet you downstairs to help get him up.”

“Okay. I'll...I'll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Ally. You're the best.” He hung up and quickly punched the address for the loft into his phone, sending the text to Allison. He then hit his number one speed dial.

“Stiles, I'm going-”

“Stay here.” He barked out, cutting Laura off. Her features were still wolfed out, but he could blame the full moon. She was no longer snarling, and Scott was rubbing her shoulder and carding fingers through her hair, so he must have been able to calm her down at least a little bit. “Dad.” he barked out as soon as his father picked up his phone.

“Stiles? What's going on?”

“I need you to get into uniform and bring a shit ton of deputies to the Argent's place to arrest a stupid fucking, torturous-”

“Stiles!”

“Kate Argent! Kate Argent, Dad! She's the one that kidnapped Derek. She electrocuted him half to death, probably poisoned him a couple times, tortured him...Do I need to go on? Allison and Derek will corroborate the story, but she's dangerous, dad. Like, hella weapons dangerous, and I don't think she'll hesitate to shoot you.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I know. Dad, no time for freak outs! Cop mode!”

“Sorry, you're right. I'm leaving now. Isaac!” Stiles heard his father calling to Isaac and they exchanged words he could not hear. He hoped Isaac would stay at his house, keep himself safe. He had other things to worry about though; his dad would handle it. “Okay, I'm leaving now.”

“Send a crew to dust the old Hale place for Kate's prints too. They'll probably find her whole torture dungeon around the back of the house in the cellar, but I don't think she'll be there, cause Allison just left. You'll find her prints too probably, but _please_ don't arrest her. She's rescuing Derek right now.”

“Okay, Stiles. I'm driving. I'll handle it.”

“Bring backup! I mean it!”

“I will. Love you kiddo. Stay safe.”

“Trying to.” They hung up and Stiles took a deep breath, finally turning to give Laura his attention. Scott was perched on the couch behind her, hands firmly massaging her shoulders. Her head was dangling against her chest, her breath coming heavier than it would if she were truly calm. He moved forward and reached out for her.

“He'll be okay, Laura. Kate won't get away with this, Derek will be fine, and everything is gonna work out.”

“What about Peter though? He was missing too.”

“I...” Stiles cut himself off and carded fingers through her hair, rubbing gently at her scalp. He had no idea what to do about Peter. “I don't think Kate had him. I'll have my dad question her about him, but...if he wasn't with Derek...” Laura nodded and rested her forehead against his shoulder. Boyd came into the room, looking to Stiles for direction. It was weird, he was not used to telling anyone but Scott what to do.

“Go downstairs to the main door,” he instructed Boyd. “Wait for Allison, help her get Derek up here. He's hurt, but he's okay.” The other boy nodded and left without question. So weird.

Several long minutes passed where Stiles made simple, meaningless platitudes to Laura while he and Scott stroked her hair and arms. If he focused, he could hear Erica thrashing against her chains in another room, but they seemed to be holding so he tuned her out. Laura was breathing easier, calming down now that her brother was on his way back to her. Their eyes were all trained on the door to the loft, so when it opened to reveal the two humans supporting Derek between them, all three rushed forward.

Laura grabbed her brother in a tight hug, squeezing so hard his breath left him in a rush.

“Don't you ever do that to me again, Derek.” She whispered more words furiously into his ear, but Stiles could not make out the words, nor did he wish to. He grabbed Allison and pulled her into a hug, thanking her before releasing her to Scott.

“Sho...Um...” Scott slurred through his fangs. Oh shoot. Stiles had not even considered what it would mean to bring the huntress here while Scott was wolfed out! Well, it was too late now. Time for the first true trial of their relationship. Would love prevail? Would Romeo get his Juliette? Or would Beauty kill the Beast?

“It's fine, Scott. I...I kinda figured you were a...a werewolf.” Romeo and Juliette for the win! Hopefully minus all the death and tragedy at the end.

“You knew?” Scott looked up at her hopefully, his puppy-dog eyes in full force as he took a hesitant step forward. She reached out and grabbed his clawed hand gingerly, bringing it close so she could examine his elongated nails.

“Basically. I knew Stiles ran with wolves, and considering you're his best friend...It was a small jump.” Stiles tuned them out and turned back to Derek, letting the lovebirds have their reunion and tearful speeches of acceptance and love. They were adorable. Truly a romance novel for the ages.

“Hey, let's get him over to the couch.” Laura nodded at his words and she herded her brother over to the sofa without letting him leave the protective circle of her arms. He clapped his hand on Boyd's shoulder in thanks before making his way to the kitchen to prepare Derek some of the tea he liked. It was a different flavor than Isaac's, but the younger boy had clearly picked it up from the wolf.

Speaking of Isaac...

“Hey, bud. How are you doing?” He asked after the boy answered his phone.

“Stiles what the actual hell is even happening? I mean...I know what's happening. Why is what's happening happening?” He chuckled weakly and heaved a sigh before responding.

“Honestly, I don't know why it's all happening now. In hindsight, drama with Kate has been a long time coming. We're just lucky we have Ally on our side or things could have turned out a lot worse. I sent my dad to arrest the woman responsible for kidnapping Derek, Derek's back and safe with us, we're all good here. Erica's still chained up...Are you alright? Nothing worse than shaky nerves?” He could practically hear Isaac shaking his head in disbelief.

“I'm fine. Freaking out, but physically I'm fine.”

“Sorry that all of this had to happen tonight, Isaac.”

“It's not your fault.” Stiles shrugged. He knew that. He did not even really have anything to be sorry for. Not like he was in charge of anything but Scott. He provably had no responsibility for anything happening tonight.

Except for the fact that events kept conspiring to make him take charge. He did not want to take charge! He liked being irresponsible and shoving the blame off on other people!

“We'll probably make our way back home as soon as we get confirmation that my dad arrested Kate. I don't want to risk her coming here and attacking the pack tonight.”

“Okay. Am I cool to stay here by myself?”

“Of course you are! I'd kick your- Scott?” His friend had perked up suddenly, glaring at the main door to the apartment. Laura and Derek lifted their heads from where they were cuddling on the couch as well, the elder Hale lifting herself to her feet to approach the door. Derek struggled upright, but he was well enough by now that he could stand under his own power.

“Stiles? What's wrong?”

“I don't know. I'll call you back, Isaac.” He hung up, cutting off the boy's concerned shout. “Guys? What's up?”

“Shomeone'sh here.” Scott said, voice soft and rumbling in his chest. Never before had his friend sounded so menacing, even back when he first turned and had been trying to kill Stiles. Anyone who made Scott sound like that had to be bad. Could it be Kate? Had she found them? He held his breath as the door was pushed open.

A man he had never seen before stood on the other side, eyes staring blankly into the room. His hand hung suspended, like he had pushed the door open and forgotten to let his arm drop. Laura and Derek gasped loudly. Stiles eyes flickered over to them and saw shock painted all over their faces, eyes wide and jaws hanging loose.

“Uncle...Uncle Peter?” He turned back to the strange figure at Laura's whispered question. The man certainly did not look like a 6-year comatose burn victim. But then with werewolf healing, who could say what he should look like? His eyes were certainly vacant enough to still be considered comatose. He just stared blankly into the room, not focusing on any of them.

Stiles slid open a drawer and pulled out a knife.

A knife was not the best weapon against a werewolf, but it was certainly better than his clawless hands.

“Laura.” Stiles hand clenched reflexively on the knife at the grating croak that rumbled from Peter's throat. He certainly _sounded_ like Stiles would imagine a comatose burn victim to sound. It was like the ultimate morning voice, the raw croaking that came only from severe disuse.

“Uncle Peter...How're you...” Laura took a hesitant step forward, then another. She stepped closer to her uncle until she could set her hand on his shoulder. Dead eyes looked down at the hand, but he made no effort to stop her as she drew him into a hug.

“The ones...they burned us. They killed us.” His words were muffled against Laura's shoulder, but Stiles heard him more clearly as she drew away and held him at arm's length. “They are here. They returned to finish it.

“But I will finish them.” Stiles watched, tense and confused as Peter's eyes turned from his niece to land on Allison. He sniffed and his upper lip lifted in a silent snarl. “One stands here.”

“No, Peter. She has been helping us. She's an Argent, but she's on our side. She just rescued Derek from her family.” Laura squeezed Peter's shoulder and spoke to him like a confused old person, her voice calm and gentle. It reminded him of the way his dad would speak to his mom on her bad days. He swallowed down his feelings at the comparison, keeping his guard up. Peter was making everyone nervous, and he had no idea what the man was capable of.

At the sound of Allison's last name, Peter jerked forward like he was about to attack the girl. Laura held him back and his gaze twisted to stare at her. His eyes burned an icy blue, hatred carved into the lines of his face. Scott growled and bent his knees, prepared to attack.

“So. You will not take the revenge our family deserves.”

“We don't know the fire was the Argents, Peter. We can't kill them just because they lived here back then.”

“Actually...Kate did it.” Allison's soft voice cut through the room like a knife. All eyes turned to her in shock. Kate did it?! That was...actually not surprising to find out at all. Of course Kate started the fire. She was responsible for all sorts of other terrible things, why not murdering ten people on top of the rest? “She...she mentioned it when she was bragging about Derek. She didn't know I knew who he was.

“Holy fuck.” Stiles whispered. He had to tell his dad. This was huge! The fire had been accredited to electrical failure, but if it had been arson...Kate would be going away for a long, long time. She would probably die in prison on the lightest sentence.

“Then you will assist me?” Laura's gaze whipped back to Peter, whose eyes had never left her face. Stiles shivered at the intensity hidden within the emptiness.

“We've already got the police going after her, Peter. She's being arrested right now, and when we tell them-”

“She must die.” Laura sighed and lowered her arm from his shoulder, running her other hand through her hair.

“Peter...We can't kill her now. She'll be in police custody by the time we get there. There's no way she'll avoid trial, no way she won't spend the rest of her days in prison. Isn't...” She released a pained sigh. Stiles knew it would be killing her not to avenge her family, but she was right. Killing Kate would be more trouble than it was worth at this point. “Isn't it better for her to suffer in chains for the rest of her life than to let her off easy by killing her now?” Derek growled, slowly working his way around the couch, but he added nothing. Their uncle stared at Laura for a long second, seeming to consider her words.

“Fine. You will not help me.” Laura's shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she let out a long, sad sigh.

“I don't think-”

Claws slashed through her throat.

It happened so fast Stiles missed it, only seeing it happen in his memory as Laura gaped and slumped to the floor. Stunned, horrified, Stiles watched as Laura's body hit the ground and everyone exploded into action. Scott charged and Derek let out a bloodcurdling roar, leaping for his uncle as well. He dropped the knife and leaped over the counter, sliding to the floor next to Laura. His hands fluttered uselessly over her throat, knowing you should apply pressure to bleeding wounds, but the neck was not really somewhere pressure could be applied! Blood squirted and pulsed from her gaping throat faster than he thought should be possible, spraying and instantly drenching him.

He barely noticed, eyes locking on hers as her lips gaped open and shut like a dying fish.

Bad analogy, Stiles.

Laura's hand lifted toward him and he leaned forward, ignoring the blood. All the blood.

So much blood.

Pain spiked through his neck and he gasped as his alpha pressed her claws between his vertebrae, and the world unfolded into something else.

*

 _“Did you know, Laura, that in the wild wolves do not actually follow a defined hierarchy?”_ _She cocked her head at her mother, curious. Everything she had heard about wolves, were or otherwise, had said they did follow a hierarchy! But her mother was the smartest person in the world._

_“So why do people think they do, then?”_

_“Well, it's actually because of a single study that became very popular a while back.” Talia smiled, the look that meant she was about to impart fascinating information that no one ever thought to ask about. “A scientist spent a long time observing wolf behavior. I think it was something like a couple years, over several packs in several areas. He observed that in those packs, there was always one wolf that would lead a hunt, or sometimes two if the pack was lucky enough to have a mated pair as their 'alphas.'”_

_“But that sounds like they_ do _follow a hierarchy.” Talia nodded, smiling. She folded her slender, carefully manicured fingers on top of the table. Dinner was still cooking – the scent of meatloaf, boiling potatoes and steaming broccoli wafting through the air – so they had plenty of time to talk about whatever they wished._

_“That's what most people thought. It's how he interpreted the behavior, and because he wrote it that way, the first and most involved paper to analyze wolf behavior, it became fact._

_“But more recently, other studies by more people have been done. They found the same behavior, but they noted that it was not always the same wolf leading the pack. The 'alpha' would change sometimes.” She pursed her lips, not really seeing how the new studies disproved the pack hierarchies. Talia smiled knowingly at her, and continued. “They took other things into consideration when they noted a change in the pack's 'alpha.' And more often than not, it corresponded with how many pups that wolf had in the pack, or how many it would provide for before any others. The wolf with the most to care for often led the pack._

_“Now, those numbers were usually fairly stable, which is why packs were often led by a single wolf. But the wolf did not lead because there was something inherently better about it.” And then Laura understood the point. The wolf did not lead because it was stronger or better than the others._

_“The alphas were always the fiercest parents, the ones with the most to protect.”_

_*_

Snarling and snapping, the sounds of breaking bone and clashing jaws, met his ears as he stared down into Laura's face. Her claws burned in his neck, fire coursing through his body to match the fierce glow of Laura's eyes.

_*_

_“The alpha power is not always taken. Sometimes, it is passed down.” Laura nodded, knowing this already._

_“That's why you say I'm 'alpha material.'”_

_“Yes, Laura. You have the capacity to be an amazing alpha, and when I eventually die, I have no doubt that my power will naturally pass to you._

_“But alphas can also retire. They can pass along their alpha spark without dying.” Wait, really? Her mother continued before she could think of how to phrase her question. “It mostly happens that way in large families, stable packs that have little fear of hunters or invasion.”_

_“So like us?”_

_“Exactly like us. Probably in the next ten or twenty years, I will grow tired of being alpha. It will be my time to rest, to help care for the new pups in the pack, provide insight and support, but not leadership. When that time comes, I will pass my power on to you, and I hope that when your time comes, you will be able to do the same for your successor.”_

_*_

The fire was raging through his entire body now, a heatless inferno rolling through his core and purging every cell. Tears leaked from his eyes as his hands scrambled uselessly along Laura's hair and throat, both soaked with blood now only weakly pulsing from the gaping wound. The bright glow of her red eyes faded to their normal dark brown. Her lips pursed closed in a grimace that she tried to turn into a smile.

_*_

_“Derek's going to kill me for this. I can't believe I'm even trying this, you're a freaking human. God, this sucks! I can't believe this is how I die! Betrayed by my catatonic zombie uncle, throat slashed in the middle of my living room. Lamest. Obit. Ever. Here lies Laura, the shitty werewolf who just stood there while her...her uncle..._

_“God, Stiles. I don't...I don't want to go. I can't leave Derek, not like this. I can't...He won't...God dammit! Dammit Peter! Things were good! Things were getting better!_ We _were getting better!_

_“It's all thanks to you though, Stiles. Your fierce loyalty against all reason. You helped drag a group of losers together. Boyd and Erica. Isaac. God, Isaac and Boyd. I never even got to give them the Bite. And Erica. Fuck, Erica is going to feel me dying, and she's going to lose it even harder than she already was._

_“I don't know if this is going to work, but I had to try. Derek...he couldn't handle being the alpha. God knows he would try, but he was never meant to be an alpha. We ruined him as a kid, babied him and sent him around like a little whipping boy. He's a great beta, but he was never meant for the alpha powers._

_“Peter...Dammit, Peter. Damn Kate! Peter was never meant to be an alpha either, but at least he didn't used to be a monster. He...I would rather my alpha spark disappear trying to give it to you than let whatever Peter has become take it. He's...Take care of him, Stiles. However you have to. He's in pain, and he shouldn't have to deal with it any longer._

_“Take care of them, Stiles. Even...Even if this doesn't work, you're all they have._

_“Fuck...I'm out...I'm out of time. Dammit. Shit fucking...fuck. Good luck, Stiles. I'm sorry to put this all on you, but you're the best man for the job. You can do it. I know you can._

_“Don't let Derek be alone.”_

_*_

The fire settled deep in his gut, a smoldering ember permeating his being instead of a raging inferno consuming him. He barely noticed as Laura's claws slipped from his neck, her arm falling limp to his side. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he clutched at Laura's shirt desperately, croaking her name over and over again as her features fell slack and her eyes – her beautiful, brown eyes – lost their focus.

Hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him, pulling his eyes from the face of his dead alpha.

_He was the alpha now._

“Stiles, we have to move.” Allison. His eyes caught hers and they widened, but she blinked away the shock from whatever she saw and pulled at him to get him on his feet. Turning he saw the wolves still fighting, mere feet away. He let the girl pull him behind the couch to watch from a safer distance.

The distance turned out to be unnecessary; the fight ended almost the instant they turned back around. Scott scored deep wounds across Peter's thighs and back, causing the older man to stumble forward. Derek took the opportunity and buried his claws in Peter's throat, ending his life the same way he ended their alpha's. The last of Derek's family tumbled to the ground, gasping and twitching for mere seconds before falling still.

Had Laura died that fast? Had it really only taken a handful of seconds for her to bleed out and die? It had felt like minutes, not seconds.

Maybe it felt longer because of the memories.

Derek stumbled away from his uncle, collapsing to his knees next to Laura's body. Still breathing heavy from the fight, he reached out shaking fingers to brush over her face. His jaw quivered and his fists clenched, and a few more tears escaped Stiles' eyes as the last of the Hales let out a gut wrenching scream-turned-sob.

She was really gone.

The phone hanging on the wall shattered the atmosphere. Derek made no move to answer it. The three teens looked between each other for two more rings before Allison leaped over the couch and answered it.

“Hello?” He was impressed by how normal her voice sounded. He did not think he could have answered without the tears in his eyes sounding through his throat. “Yes, I apologize. We...had a movie playing a little loudly because our boys decided to wrestle. Don't worry, we put a stop to it. Thank you, have a good night.” She hung up and released a heavy sigh.

“We need...” She started, stopped to shake herself out and lift her head high. There was steel in her eyes now, and it helped Stiles gather himself. They had things they needed to do. Maybe not Derek, but the rest of them. “We need to let your dad know about Kate.” He nodded.

“We can start with that. Allison, you call your dad and let him know...something. About Kate at least. He should know what she did as well. Ask...ask for advice on clean up as well.” Holy crap, this was his job now. He was used to leading Scott around, but now he was officially in charge of more than just his best friend. There was a whole pack that would be looking to him for guidance and support!

Okay, Okay. He could do this.

“Scott, are you hurt?” His friend shook his head. “Good. Clean up, then go home and stay with Isaac. I'm gonna...” his eyes passed over the dead bodies, and all the blood, and it made the whole thing feel real again.

There were dead people on the floor. One of them was someone he really liked.

No. No, he could not afford a break down right now. He swallowed and pushed down his feelings, steeling himself to deal with this.

“I'm gonna wait for my dad to call telling me they've got Kate, then I'm gonna get his help here. I...I can't deal with this, but he will be able to help.”

Derek got to his feet, and everything stopped. All three teens turned to watch as he wiped bloody hands off on his stained and ripped jeans, his face set into an emotionless scowl.

“Go home. I'll deal with everything here.” Oh, Derek.

“Derek, it's fine. We can-”

“I said go home, Stiles!” His shout and burning blue eyes brought the embers in Stiles' gut rising up through his chest and to his eyes, and he knew they would be burning alpha-red at the werewolf. Derek flinched away from him before his face shut down again. “Go home. I...I can't have you here right now.”

And that...that broke Stiles' heart. But he understood. He would have wanted to be alone if the last of his family died too. Especially if he had to clean up after them. No one else would be allowed to touch anything. He waved a hand toward the door. Scott immediately made his way out, casting a sad look at Derek. Allison was slower, but after a short staring contest with Stiles she obeyed as well. The last one to leave, he turned and watched for a long moment as Derek started picking up the things their fight had knocked over. The wolf was ignoring him, so he sighed and turned away.

For the first time in his waking memory, Stiles said nothing.

***

Derek was gone.

When Stiles and Isaac arrived back at the loft the morning after...After Laura's death...to find Erica still locked up but the apartment clean, they figured maybe he was still taking care of the fight.

Two days later Stiles' dad found Laura's and Peter's bodies in the woods near the old Hale house, and no one had seen or heard from Derek. Kate was in police custody and being transferred for holding until her court date, since she had been deemed a flight risk.

Erica took to Stiles as her alpha easily. Losing Laura hurt, but Stiles had been there for her just as much and just as long. She had seen how well he handled Scott, and while he felt he only did that well from spending their entire lives leading Scott around, he was determined to do just as well with the blond.

Laura's funeral was a small affair the Wednesday after Erica's first full moon. Apparently the senior Hales had arranged with Deaton to handle all expenses and organization, which was a relief to Stiles. There was a plot of land set aside for Hale family members, and only the pack was present during her burial.

The pack minus Derek.

“Should we really still be meeting here?” Isaac asked as they walked into the apartment and Stiles moved to the kitchen. Saturday had rolled back around, and Stiles was determined to maintain their tradition of getting together as a pack on Saturday evening regardless of what else happened that week.

“You guys have keys. Derek hasn't done anything to indicate this place is off limits. It's pack HQ. If he cared, he'd be here to tell us to get out.” Isaac shrugged and dropped onto the couch, flicking on the television and setting up a game of Smash Bros. Scott and Allison joined him while Stiles began pulling out ingredients for chocolate chip cookies.

“I come bearing gifts!” All eyes turned at Erica's triumphant crow. The girl had nothing in her arms, but Boyd trailed in after her with a couple shopping bags. He set them on the counter, and Stiles' father crept in after him.

“Hey guys.” He announced quietly after closing the door behind him.

“Dad? What's up? Here to join us for pack night?” His father smiled and shook his head.

“No, I've gotta be at the station in an hour, I just have something I think is for you guys.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Stiles.

“What's this?” It was small, just a scrap torn from a notebook. On the outside fold was written _'from Derek'_ in a small, messy scrawl. Stiles opened it and frowned, considering.

' _loft closet 71084'_

“Dunno, I found it between two pieces of junk mail earlier today. Clearly Derek left it, but it doesn't mean anything to me.” All eyes turned to watch at Derek's name.

“I wonder...” Stiles turned and made his way toward Derek's bedroom, pausing only briefly before opening the door and crossing inside. Everyone followed him from the other room, curious as to what was going on. Opening the closet revealed clothes and shoes and other objects tossed haphazardly to keep them from cluttering up the bedroom. Underneath one of the jackets was a safe. Probably only a foot long in any dimension, it was not huge, but that meant nothing for what it could contain.

Stiles punched in the five digits written on the paper, and the safe beeped before the door clicked open. Inside was a single, standard envelop with ‘Stiles’ written on the front in Derek’s handwriting. Pulling it out and tearing it open revealed a credit card and a folded sheet of paper with more of Derek's handwriting.

_Stiles._

_I can't stay here. I don't know where I'll go, but it can't be here._

_This card is connected to my family's account. Use it for pack expenses. It’s what Laura would be doing as the alpha, so you shouldn't try to figure out how to provide for them on your own. Do whatever you want with the apartment._

_If you need a replacement card for some reason, email me at dhspare@cox.net_

_Don't contact me for anything else._

The note cut off there, which was absolutely unsurprising considering Derek's penchant for grumpy silence. He laughed and scrubbed an eye, standing and giving the letter to his dad, who shook his head and passed it to the others to read over for themselves.

“So he's gone.” Stiles nodded.

“Seems like it.”

“Why would he just leave?” Allison shoved Scott at his question.

“Really, Scott? The last of his family is dead, and Stiles is the alpha now. I think Stiles will be great for us, but could you imagine Derek letting Stiles boss him around when his last alpha was his now-dead sister?”

“Yeah, buddy. Major downgrade I am not afraid to admit.” Because he was. He had no idea what he would do with a pack of teenage werewolves. Well, two werewolves and three humans. Was it even a pack if more of the members were humans than wolves?

“He still cares though, obviously.” Sheriff Stilinski, voice of positivity. He continued when the teenagers all turned to look at him. “He wants you guys to support the pack on his family's dime. Maybe he's just being considerate, since Laura brought you all together. But I think it's that he wants you to be okay and not be a burden to your families. He still cares, even if he can't handle being here himself. Maybe he'll come back once he gets his head on straight.” That seemed to give everyone a bit of hope they had not even noticed was missing.

The pack all returned to the living room and settled on various surfaces, Stiles' dad clearing his throat again to draw their attention back to him.

“So, I've got a question, which doubles as a concern you guys should think about:

“What are your plans for Isaac and Boyd? I know they were scheduled to be turned soon. But Stiles isn't a wolf. Do you know if he even _can_ turn anyone?” Stiles blew his breath out in a huff. He had been wondering the same thing.

“I'm going to look into it, and at worst case I'll just try biting them and see if it does anything.” Everyone chuckled at the image, but he continued on before anyone else could say anything. “I also don't want to try anything until after the next full moon. Without Laura...I don't know if I could handle more than one out-of-control beta at a time.” Stiles dad nodded in approval. Isaac and Boyd both grimaced, but they nodded as well. “I want to make sure Erica can handle herself before we try bringing a new beta into things.”

“So...What, then?” He lifted an eyebrow at Isaac.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...what...do Boyd and I...” Oh. Oh, did he think they were going to make them stay away?!

“Oh, dude. No, chill. Like, nothing's gonna change. We'll still hang out and stuff, we're family. We're still pack. I'm gonna alpha the shit out of you guys, see if I don't. Just no wolf-making for at least another month.” Both of their shoulders slumped in relief. Had they really thought he would just toss them aside until they were wolves?

“Thanks.” He grinned at Isaac.

“Don't worry about it, dude. I gotchoo. We're all in this together, High School Musical style.” Everyone groaned and his grin brightened.

They were going to be okay. They could do this.

“I want a different alpha. Scott, you can take over can't you?”

“Hey! I'm gonna be a great alpha! See if I'm not! First order of business, choreography!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's this. This is the end of season 1. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it! I've definitely got stuff written for other seasons, but none that are complete so it'll be a minute before I update this universe. that said, I absolutely will post more in this universe.   
> If you have any question/comments/ideas you'd like to see me implement, lemme know! Also, as casual a writer as I am, I always strive to improve myself, so if you've got constructive criticism, or think I could do something different/better, I welcome that too!


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